The wind blows softly over the lonely,
The suffering think of themselves only.
A world of chaos, racism, and turmoil,
Utmost egomanias spoil our toil.
An old man groans, no decent place to live,
Are there relatives? No comfort to give?
Blow softly oh lonely wind, they care not,
They are comfortable, and all forgot.
Somewhere a child is crying his heart out,
Can anyone guess what it's all about?
Is the child hungry, lost, or cast aside?
Much abused, ill-treated, or love denied?
There are millions of cries heard on the wind,
Alas no one bothers: is man unkind?