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Poem
The silence presses heavy, thick,  
Like walls that close with every tick.  
I walk through days, but none I own,  
A shadow lost, a heart unknown.  
My family’s gone, my friends are far,  
The distance stretches like a scar.  
I reach for hands that never grasp,  
I chase the echoes of the past.  

I sit alone, a guest in life,  
A presence, but not worth the strife.  
My spouse sees me, but not as friend,  
I’m just a face they must defend.  
A duty more than anything—  
A weight to carry, just to cling.  
In this house, I stand, unseen,  
A fixture fading in between.  

I never knew the father’s touch,  
The warmth of love that means so much.  
My children far, four days a month,  
A parent, but not quite enough.  
My adopted daughter, distant still,  
I wonder if she’d feel the thrill  
Of a life without my face,  
If I could vanish without trace.  

My stepson looks, but never sees,  
I’m just a blur, a passing breeze,  
Except when I’m beside his mother,  
Then I’m there—but still, no other.  
The pain sits heavy, deep inside,  
An ache I can’t escape or hide.  
Each breath a burden, each step a lie,  
I’m not forgotten, but not alive.  

I fear that death might set me free,  
To end the ache, the endless sea  
Of loneliness that chokes my chest,  
That makes me wonder if I’m blessed.  
But even then, I’ll fade alone,  
A ghost with no one to atone,  
No voice to mourn, no eyes to see,  
A life that was and ceases to be.  

No one to sit and shed a tear,  
No one to whisper, “I was here.”  
I’ll slip away and not a soul  
Will mark the absence, not a toll.  
Just quiet earth, a final rest,  
In a world where I was never blessed.  
But in this life, I wait in vain,  
For someone who can ease the pain.  

I fear that I was born to be  
A solitary soul, unseen, unfree.
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