I balked, talked tough "pity is hard to find."
Some would starve in Pakistan,
Some dine at the Ritz;
But they'll all be sitting at each others' elbows,
They're on the final dinner list.
Man cried, said something, died;
"All was fine when we were young in 1969."
This I chided, as old men confided:
"You've been weaned off the milk of human kindness--
The days of dreams are far behind us."
Mad man's head was in a daze:
"Reality over easy on our breakfast trays
May nourish the mind,
But leaves the soul hungry.
It leaves a man angry,
A lonely dreamer left to pine
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