Sad of wood
We step the Many
Seen of people so
Forgotten stop of Few
But the magic that shows
We as people
Never get to see
Such light of plenty
From a height so pure
From a height so sound
I as a story
And I as spoken
Person of steps and miles
Can’t take an hour
Or moment to long
Foreseen by Few
But left by Many
A table or chair
With word to share
So simple a connection
To the Many
Many, Few, Many, Few
The numbers unseen
Or ones we can
We value such
For we as people
Can’t see the Many
But cherish the
Few we experience