He cried out for attention, and was rebuffed. He was told that his voice wasn’t important, that he should just give it up. It wasn’t like he could ever hope to accomplish anything anyways.

He cried out for attention, and was immediately and forcefully denied. He was told to sit down, shut up, play nice, or play dead. There was a sense of freedom in the rejection. He could walk away, and no one could possibly blame him. It wasn’t like it was ever his fault.

He cried out for attention, and was ignored. They decided that he never really mattered in the first place, so why even try to convince him of his folly and error. With ignorance, regret becomes harder to prove.

He cried out for attention, and was instantly and purposely forgotten. He was nothing more than a scattering of dust, blowing away on an ill north wind. He was a collection of disjointed thoughts, splayed painfully across years and decades. In the end, it really didn’t matter at all.

He cried out for attention, and received echoes in return.