Unfound

I am used to these ones not being there Acquainted with truth; that they don’t care Your weakest efforts to bring me to mind Are all your strongly willed alibis On stranger’s tide, one part of my life They run, then hide, whilst I surf the tides Alone at sea, my flesh has failed me Along with it, all humanity I am used to these ones not being there An austere life, which is never fair Nicely deceitful, truly callous Slighting, painful, proudly ominous In oceans deep, down in the oozes The tears; I weep, and all the bruises.