Death? Loneliness? Immortality?

No one's been to visit here,
It saddens me to say.
It's cold and lonely, truth to tell,
Sitting all alone each day.

So many claim to care, and yet
Not one has stopped to talk.
They gaze as they go by, and wave
But past me they all walk.

Not even slowing on their way -
They don't have time for that.
And I just sit and watch them pass
And wonder what they're looking at.

Surely something must be there -
There must be what to see.
Or could it possibly be true -
That they're all watching me?

It couldn't be, you see, because,
They just don't care enough
They're far too busy, all of them,
To see a diamond in the rough.

And what I am, for them to care?
What's special? What have I?
I sit alone, like every day,
And cry and cry and cry.