A World Without Poetry

They are walking down the paths of their own content I shout but no one hears Their vision is jaded by their self-indulgence I look around And I am drowning in the seas of our suffering I cry: "Listen! Listen! To the songs of the broken man lying in the streets Look! Look! Past the visage of the so called average girl" Dazed and confused, they carry on Why don't they hear me? How can they not see the world for what it really is With all of its beauty and pain? What is this world without the power of poetry?