The impatient flock will abandon a lone bird with a broken wing,
The other birds will peck the eyes out and leave the weak to die alone.
Nature has no conscience, it only has the surviving and the dead.
This is the tragic age of the neglected who cannot even sing.
Their proud voices are hushed by the competition, so much they lack tone,
And they fall back to the forest of pain and the quiet woods of dread.
An unwanted child dies a thousand times, knowing his life is nothing,
Neglected and ignored he embraces the cold that chills to the bone.
And will often end the torment with a trembling gun to his head.
Oh Mother who does not care,
Let your lungs break without air,
And let your heart stop in despair.
There are poor sad souls who are starving and others left with no water.
They do not see kind colours anymore everything is black and white,
They do not smile at the beauty of a sunset it hurts their old eyes.
The humble deaf, the blind, the aged and the slow lead to the slaughter,
Feel nothing but abandonment as day breaks the closing of the night,
The neglected are the soldiers fallen in battle who cannot rise.
Wealth will not temper the forsaken son or the stranded daughter.
The gangs of forgotten men are gathering outside ready to fight,
They have not been made feel special and have revenge in their cold eyes.
Oh God who cannot be ,
May you angels be with me,
And reveal there is beauty to see.
There is beauty and peace here if you care to look,
Take a walk, through clover fields and down to the brook.
On a blue day see the yellow Sun,
Tempting Life to come out and have fun.