his eyes half closed revealed his world of nod a world of lonely men and no love no god his life of seeming nonchalance can t hide the pain and fear that in his mind reside from dawn till dawn his body houses hurt and none of us can truly aid his search we sit outside and sing cliches the fool it s always easy to forecast other s doom the savage beast that once so soothed his brain has reared it s ugly head and staked it s claim call yama here sits one more soul that he will have to add to sorrows toll these men still men would be like you and me but when the world reached out they chose to flee the crutch