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Poem

"To vanish and not be heard from ever again is mystery not to you, but to those who love you, a nightmare will ensue." By Poet

What becomes of those who vanish, 
quickly slipping out of sight
becoming ghosts so greatly missed
who step not back into the light.

You hear of souls like these sometimes.
They simply walk out of a door,
around a corner, down some street . . 
to not be heard from any more.

It’s likely they’ve been kidnapped though
how awful if no proof is found
to show that there had been foul play.
Were they killed or gagged and bound?

Had there been horrific torture?
What must those who love them feel
if their body’s not recovered?
To have no clue must be surreal.

And always there’s that tiny chance
to which their friends or kin may cling.
They simply disappeared because
of secrets or deep suffering.

Are they now in slavery
to traffickers of sex somewhere?
This thought must haunt the parents of
young kids with faces sweet and fair.

How hard it is has to be to know
your loved one had no cause to flee.
In hell you’d suffer thinking that
in hell your loved one still might be.

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