Pity

That little old woman and little old man,
how sad their circumstance seems.
Doing their best to do all they can;
abandoning all hopes and dreams.

Such people abound almost every place;
in both countryside and every city;
in need of help and also grace;
usually drawing our response of pity.

Some of us suffering from our own delusions;
are drawn to be in a similar state;
for something within leads to conclusions;
and so, to depression and sadness;  relate.

What strange energy; what bizare circumstance,
lead many to hug their dog and pet their kitty?
Could they receive a form of love, perchance;
as their thoughts dwell on others’ pity?

What’s going on; what is it they feel;
as others look down from on high?
An energy called love; somehow seems real;
from complete strangers passing by.

How can such love satisfy;
to ones who are embarrassed so.
It may be all on which they rely;
the only love they’ll know.

Nearly one and all reach this plateau;
and if you think I’m wrong, you’re a smarty;
for you, yourself, someday will go
to your very own pity party.