There are shadows and some doubt,
Thoughtless people moving about;
Silent thoughts in lonesome crowds,
All is forgotten.

Prayers from songs to the earth,
Freshness having a rebirth;
Love is just what it is worth,
Unspoiled or rotten.

Forgive any state of mind,
Two together one combined;
But one's heart is often blind,
Life's always plotting.

Peter S. Quinn

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/46-from-what-s-really-happening-in-54-numbers/