The Empty Child.

The worlds drone about a single soul,
Suffocating her being in a deep, dark hole,
Her ears feast on the zoom of life,
The buzz of reality; so certainly rife.

Daily routine is the heart of a city,
The painful commute to every committee,
Rowdy discussions that last for weeks,
Disgraceful publicity when privacy leaks.

Hurtful remarks from the core of the earth,
As it announces its hate of the latest birth,
Born into the wilderness, simply disguised,
By the architects ideas so overly-sized.

She’ll be in that hole of darkness soon,
Swamped by the land of a busy typhoon,
One that cares little about that girl in the hole,
And refuses to return the life that it stole.

She rocks by herself huddled and tight,
Scared by the whoosh of all that’s in sight,
She remembers a past when she was beguiled,
Then remembers that now she’s the empty child.

After 4 attempts this better be good!