There was once a lonely whale,
and they'd never hear her wail.
Not that she doesn't, in this tale,
her despair so deep, and them so frail...
They think she's dumb, or worse, numb.
She thinks they're deaf, or worse, they left.
She sings in sorrow, with none to hear,
a solitude so thorough, year after year.
She'd weep, hoping for resonance,
She'd sleep, moping in dissonance.
Her kind nowhere around,
their kindness nowhere to be found.
She cries at 52Hz.
She's 52 now and it hurts.