Short Poem #6

They pass me by, their eyes alight, While I dissolve into the night. A shadow stitched from pain and doubt, Too tired to scream, too numb to shout. The laughter rings — a foreign sound, While I am lost, not to be found. I wave — they do not look my way, I fade a little more each day. To be unseen, unheard, unknown — It cuts far deeper than the bone. And though I live, I’m not alive, I’m just a ghost that will survive.