For No One

You remember being young and lonely in a crowded place
Full of happy faces holding hands.
No they were not pretending—how wrong you’ve been!
Just hoping to become one of them you played along.

You’re getting old, and now you start to understand
That there’s a special kind of people like you—
Searching and looking, examining faces in the crowd
Only to find out in the end that you’ve been made
For no one, for no one.

You remember making someone happy along the way
Only to destroy them in the end.
‘Cause you’ve never been meant for them,
And you couldn’t have been because you’ve been made
For no one, for no one.

Now as you’re getting old, you start to realize
That there was no other way, no other route for you,
That there was nothing that you could’ve done,
Being one of those who have been made
For no one, for no one.

So now that you know, what is there left to do?
The answer is so terrifyingly simple—get by somehow
Scratching the surface of life, business or glittering lights,
With dreams over, finish as you started—made
For no one, for no one.

October 2, 2018