Nobody came to see him last night.
There were no stars in the sky
when nobody came, and no wisdom
in the books on his shelf.
There was nothing in the newspaper,
and nothing in anyone's thoughts
but breezes blowing across oceans.
It was just nobody and him
in the center of history.
There was happiness,
but its shirt was gone
and its pockets were silent.
There was hope,
but its hands held nothing,
and nobody knew it.