So... i was reflecting on life, (like we don't do that enough),
and the premature end of it ...the nature of depression &
loneliness and how they relate to particularly creative
individuals like poets and songwriters... this is the result:

ONLY THE LONELY REALLY KNOW...

In the end, when it truly matters
only the lonely really know...

We ask, "How can anyone be lonely",
Well, only the lonely really know...

but do we ever bother to ask them,
i mean, more than superficially at best...

no, not sincerely, not with the care
that a REAL friend would show...

and in the end, when it truly matters
well, only the lonely really know.

We sing about "all the lonely people..."
Isn't music supposed to soothe the soul?

Sometimes we might stop and wonder why
songwriters & poets rate melancholy so high...

We seldom stop to ask the ones who matter,
well, only the lonely really know...

Like dying forest trees, when no one's around,
souls crash silently, politely without a sound.

not wanting to disturb the rest,
they seem so healed, so real, so strong...

then suddenly they're gone...
and we write a "what if" poem,
or another sad "sing-along"...

then we ask, "How can anyone be lonely",
in a town, a city, a world so full of people,

with so many things to do,
sights to see, places to go?

We ask, "How can anyone be lonely"...

In the end, when it truly matters
well, only the lonely really know.

Please, dear ones, know that i care about each of you...
never hesitate to call on me... i love you... you are never
alone... there is no need to be lonely... or "brave"...

namaste & bliss to you, dear ones... especially you
creative, sometimes tortured souls... be at peace...