An Invisible Truth

We do live lives of exposure, we choose to pretend

at least someone in your life has some pain to mend.

Perhaps all their own and meant for no one alone

beyond the simple exclusion of all of our unknown.

Would our lives matter to anyone might we have met

in a different time, an era, a century ago, or just not yet.

She claimed to me in tears one day ‘I’m invisible’

my tears began, I couldn’t stop no way was I able.

In grief I yelled her way, I am looking at you now

only then did I realize my life would become this, how

did I get here, how did the world become so beyond

simple reasoning, sweet reckoning, sadly so fond.

If I walked along a path on  a late summer afternoon

could I at least imagine seeing you during the full moon?

© Scott F Savage 8/2020