Humanity Lost Poem by Teresa Dearing

We touch, but never truely feel,
We speak, but the words are not real,
So busy we are with our life,
We find no patience for your strife.
Then one day we wake up, to find we have the time,
Too late the contact's broken, by death, distance, and mind.
If only I had a token to buy back all the years,
Maybe I could go back now and stop these shedding tears.
For the tears shed are mine now; not friends, family, or foes,
And the needs that went unanswered, have now become my woes.