Forsaken

No one speaks to me at all,
Although I speak to everyone;
As though I'm talking to a wall
From day's begin till it is done.

My love-filled parcels none unwrap,
My letters languish in the box,
Passed up for yet another app
That's spread among the youth like pox.

My thoughts, with eagerness I spoke,
Are left to float about in air,
For folk are dormant and unwoke,
Immersed in worlds not really there.

A smile, while waiting for the bus,
Is answered by a puzzled leer;
No one sees this group as “us,”
Though we all sit together here.

Perchance you are forsaken too,
By all the silent, sleeping folk,
Then I shall listen fain to you—
We'll share the wisdom of the woke.