Diagnosis III

Hello shadows, my old friends,
You find me down on my knees once again.
Praying to be forgiven,
Praying to remain unseen.
To be forgotten,

Fractured but somehow not broken.
Like a passenger, alone, in an otherwise empty railway carriage
To the observer by the side of the track, I will not seem real.
But just a dissected jumble of body parts flying –
Eye, arm, tear upon a cheek, passing by.

Less than human, I hope to appear
To the disease waiting outside for me.
Nothing but shadows and light
To the watcher beside the track.
Nothing in the scheme of things, nothing to infinity.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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