Hidden in a crowd, but so all alone

This sense of invisibility I've always known

No one here can see me, like I'm a ghost
Each passing day feels longer than most

I yearn for acceptance from my family tree

To have them look at me and really see me
Though it may be just a wishful dream

There's still a voice inside that longs to be seen

My voice screams out loud, yet still unheard
Maybe they'll see me once the veil is stirred
Everywhere I go this sense follows me around
Like I'm an intruder to these sacred grounds

But even when I'm down, I stand my ground
For within myself lies hope found
That one day, my presence will be revealed
And on that day all things shall be healed.

#invisible

© Quabena Reazon

Photo Credit: Mack Tennyson, Adventist Review Magazine