There are sounds I
hear more often these days
It's nothing like
my mother says
"It's the ambient noise
Of life replays and
People bustling
in a craze"

No.
No, it's not.

I hear hidden
Cries of pain
Behind porcelain faces
Of disdain
Those traveling
On the train
Are lusting over
Potential gain
The student on
Their trusty phone
Is actually feeling
All alone
And the old woman
With the soft tone
Is sitting on
her personal throne

How do I find
This out?
For me to know
And you to doubt
But your judging
So loud
Just makes you
Part of the large crowd
Of those who think
They understand
All the troubles
In the land
But they know less
than a grain of sand
And will continue
To live so bland
Without ever giving
A helping hand