no one really noticed
not until he stood
six thousand miles, disattached from the world
cold, grey separation

and they screamed for him,
but
he couldn't hear
over the taunting
the cold, uncaring
the anger
was just too loud

until he fell,
and met the welcoming ground

and of course
suddenly he was loved
but only in death

and by the time that oaken box of a broken man passed by
it was too late to care.