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Fear of Disappearing

The older I get the more I feel it the slow and constant fading vibrant colors graying my orbit decaying spark of life dimmed So I talk a little louder a little too much to underscore my words never quite reassured that I am still heard And I draw my face a little dramatically eyes lined too dark lipstick too bright to calm the fear that I am fading from view invisible to you And though I hardly feel it I must trust that I am not disappearing I am still relevant I am still here

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Maureen Mcgreavy

Date: 9/7/2018 6:41:00 AM

Brilliant piece Rhona. xomo

Rhona Mcferran
Date: 9/7/2018 9:30:00 PM

Thank you!!!

Daniel Turner

Date: 7/25/2018 6:14:00 PM

Yes, Rhona. I hear you loud and clear. I once wrote a poem entitled, "The Forgotten" about getting old. This is a splendid write even though it is a bit sad.

Rhona Mcferran
Date: 7/26/2018 8:41:00 PM

Thanks for the kind words!

Caren Krutsinger

Date: 7/25/2018 4:05:00 PM

"never quite reassured that I am still heard" - this never came to the forefront of my mind at all until the last six years, and now it lingers there.

Rhona Mcferran
Date: 7/26/2018 8:48:00 PM

I know what you mean, once the 'seed of doubt' is sown... I thought I started writing this as a poem about an elderly friend of mine, and lo and behold- I discovered I was describing myself! *sheepish grin*