There is nothing
quite as sad as
a man who dies
a social death.

His heart still
moves blood through
his veins.

His yellow teeth still
tear through
the days.

He wastes oxygen
and drinks the air
in rooms where he is
unwanted.

He crashes parties
uninvited.
And dresses up so
unimportant.

He sits and waits
for a response
that will never
arrive.

He watches the hours
and years slip
slowly by
and calls it
life.