The Lost Ones
©2003 Susan Noyes Anderson, His Children, Vantage Point Press
photograph ©2003 Anita Schiller
The world keeps churning, turning round
It does not stop for those who fall
The lost ones sleep upon the ground
Unloved, unnoticed and unfound
They pay no heed to clarion call
The world keeps churning, turning round
As tinkling tongues of brass expound
On ways and means to honor all
The lost ones sleep upon the ground
They cannot hear the cymbal’s sound
Nor do they fit the protocol
The world keeps churning, turning round
While sages speak in tones profound
Their words step over those who crawl
The lost ones sleep upon the ground
They dream no more; their hearts are bound
And no one comes to breach the wall
The world keeps churning, turning round
The lost ones sleep upon the ground
