Hope for Eleanor

“I look at all the lonely people.
I look at all the lonely people.”

Lowly glass faces,
watches the world from a window that hides in the mist,
clenching his fist.
Sent of the thunder,
pores to the earth, like a drumming, from soft liquid eyes,
gray in the skies.

All the downcast faces.
Where will the lonely go?
All the downcast faces.
I think you aught to know.

Shallow end waters,
Home to the ones with no voices to cry to the night,
Fleeing from light.
One last true hopeful,
Grasping a hand icy and pale from the darkened pool,
Befriend the fool.

All the downcast faces.
Where will the lonely go?
All the downcast faces.
I think you aught to know.

“I look at all the lonely people.
I look at all the lonely people.”

Amazed by the gesture,
The face of glass then rises out to light up the sun,
It has begun.
More lonesome fallow,
wipe away tears, reach for the stars, spread love hand in hand,
travel the land.

All the downcast faces. (“I look at all the lonely people.”)
Where will the lonely go?
All the downcast faces. (“I look at all the lonely people.”)
I think you aught to know.