I saw that man fall in the street.
It was like he suddenly
lost his feet.
His sign went flying,
as did my mood.
I should've been crying,
will work for food.

I saw my friend breaking down.
She needed those pills,
but they weren't around.
Her hands were shaking,
as was my mind.
Her heart was breaking,
yet I left her behind.

I heard the sirens again tonight.
My stupid neighbors,
another fight.
I've seen that girl,
we spoke once or twice.
She's not in my world,
I've been more then nice.

There will always be something wrong.
Some lost soul
some sad song.
There will always be people,
to rearrange it.
But God, just once,
can we try to change it?

She looked directly in my eyes,
and then she looked away.
It really came as no surprise,
that I should feel this way.

I'd seen it coming for so long,
I knew what lie in store.
I simply wanted one more song,
I yearned for just one more.

For she could take my breath away,
with songs so sweet and clear.
I'd go to listen every day,
just for the chance to hear.

To be around that strong sweet voice,
I could not help but smile.
Each day I had no other choice,
but to listen for awhile.

Who am I to want for more?
She's gone now....  yet I linger.
Yearning for what went before,
inspiration I could bring her.

In dreams last night I heard the phone,
a constant steady ringing.
I said hello to a voice unknown,
until I heard the singing.

Howard Dully was twelve years old
when Dr. Freeman felt so bold
to dig around inside his head
a wonder that he isn't dead.

The year was 1963,
when Howard had his lobotomy.
He never even had a clue,
of what his parents planned to do.

                  ORBITOCLASTS
The name Freeman gave to his personally designed
lobotomy knives.
They went under Howard's eyelids 3 centimeters
from the mid line and parallel with the nose.
Driven to a depth of 5 centimeters he pulled the handles
laterally, returned them halfway, and drove 2 centimeters
deeper.  He touched the handles over the nose, seperated
them 45 degrees, elevated them 50 degrees, and at this point
he probably
smiled to himself.
For now they were parallel,
and ready for photography before removal.

An angry stepmom arranged it all,
she made the final judgement call.
They labeled Howard as insane....
opened him up, and juggled his brain.

Howard survived because he was still growing.
Not fully developed,
his brain would keep going....
off in directions he couldn't control
but never condeming
the depths of his soul.

Not long ago I read his book.
I felt intrigued to take a look.
I hope, dear reader, you do the same.
Remember his story,
remember his name.