The Boy On The Hill

     The boy on the hill stands there alone,
wondering where everyone went.
     He looks, and looks, and looks for miles,
But none are in his sight.
     He did not see them walk away,
So were they ever there?

     The boy on the hill sits there alone,
wondering why everyone left.
     He thinks, and thinks, and thinks for hours,
But still he understands not.
     He did not notice them disappear,
So were they really there?

     The boy on the hill stares at the ants,
wondering what it would be like.
     He wants, and wants, and wants for this,
But human he is still.
     He did not notice their resounding hate,
So does he really care?

     The boy on the hill sits there alone,
wondering why they run.
     He chased, and chased, and chased for days,
But none are caught.
     He did not notice his resounding hate,
So why is he still there?

     The boy on the hill cries there alone,
knowing why they ran.
     He cried, and cried, and cried for years,
But none would come to help.
     He now understands it all,
So why is he still alive?

-Zero