This poem was written much more recently than the others, within the last 8 years I think. Feel free to comment if you would like. I am always open to criticism.
A Ghost in This Town
The good old days that have flown past;
they plague my waking hours with sorrow,
and my rest with nightmares of solitude.
I pass in silence, like death walking,
watching with patient horror
as my fears become my reality.
At the grocery, the mall, the theaters,
eyes of every hue pass through me
seeking the next wonder to behold.
Wonders that I dare not see
as I pass on toward transparency.
My every step is shadowed
with my own flavor of doubt.
I know not if I have the strength
to break this cycle of anxiety.
My words sound hollow even to myself,
my smile a deception of courage
My infirmities amplify the rejection
of those who scatter to every course
in fear of my infection.
I pass un-noticed through this place,
as I live my days in translucence.
I know they do not see me,
I know I should not care.
But though I care,
I press on to define "me"
So that I shall awake free
of this lonely borne abasement.