Reaching out

I wrote this after a conversation with a friend. Maybe you've been in this situation at some time in your life, and found it difficult to become a part of what's going on - I know I have.

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How can a man feel lonely when he’s in a crowded room?
How can it be that others cannot see the cloak of gloom
That surrounds him, while he ponders on his fast approaching doom
Do they not care, or just not wish to see it?

He stands there midst the Babel noise, afraid to open up
Afraid to let the others see the level of his cup
And yet he wishes just one friendly soul would stand with him and sup
And share a word or two of conversation.

He doesn’t want discussion, or to put the world to rights
He neither wants opinion nor the stardom of the night.
But just a word of kindness that would stop him taking flight
While he adjusts to being here, alone, together.

If we all look around us and acknowledge what we see
We would notice there are others needing comfort; you and me,
We’re not alone, we came here hopefully to set our spirits free
And to share the life we hold so dear with others.

If you see another person in here, silent, looking lost
And you feel that maybe fortune left them feeling bruised and tossed
Hold your hand out to them, take steps that lead to bridges crossed
And lead them to the friendship that they’re needing.