1 month ago

I walk alone through a crowded street,
No one sees me, no one speaks.
Hands that built the world they know,
But no one cares where men like me go.

They say they don’t need a man at all,
But they call when the pipes break, or the walls fall.
Every wire, every wheel, every burning light,
Was carved by men, but we fade from sight.

I’m a disposable man,
Carry the weight, but I don’t belong in their plans.
If I’m not paying, I’m not worth a touch,
If I give a lot, they say it’s too much.
I’m a shadow in a world I built by hand,
Just a disposable man.

put books in the street library, thought I'll do some good,
But they question the reason, not the deed I stood.
If I film it for youtube, it’s pride, if I don’t, it’s unseen,
Damned if I do, lost if I’m clean.

No friends to speak of, I’m all alone,
Only friend’s the bottle and an off-the-hook phone.
The room keeps talking in a language I don’t know,
Four walls closing, nowhere left to go.

We’re the ones who fall in war,
Unnamed graves on foreign shores.
Silent fathers, working late,
Lonely hearts at Heaven’s gate.
If I disappear, who’ll even know?
Another man gone, another number shown.

I carry the city’s quiet weight, hands worn like cast-off tools,
They toast to independence while I sleep in borrowed rules.
No one calls unless I fix what’s broken, or pay to fill a room,
And when the nights tilt darker still I learn to count the gloom.
They say I’m disposable — a price tag on my name —
So I fold my hopes into my coat and walk beneath the rain.

So I whisper my name to the empty night,
Hoping one day it might feel right.
But the truth is heavy, the silence grand—
I’m just a disposable man.

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