what is lost

And are our eyes pointed at the very core of our lives
Bouncing of others when we have none?
And steal of them, 'til our shelter is done?

Cheerful friends and handshakes done,
Cheap platitudes we know like song,
Can't seem to strike through skin-deep
They shun our halls of loneliness we keep.

We made loneliness by what we've done,
And hearts seem small for all friends to have (love)
Instead we come forth with cheap demands
And there nourish on our needs more selfish
And are betrayed by them.

But guilt ensnared,

We pass to another's hands...