Lost Souls

Betwixt night and day I roam not belonging to either world, neither in nor out.
A lost soul waiting to move on,
Hidden amidst the hustle of the streets,
My presence goes unnoticed,
A living ghost neither seen nor heard.
Some play music and gain attention for a tune;
money gained enough for tea,
They shall not starve tonight.

Silent swings buffeted by the wind are my only friends,
a constant reassuring sound that I have not faded away into nothingness.
The familiar void that fills many of our eyes pleading to be set free from the monotony,
a trap sprung that we cannot get out of by ourselves.
Birds offer small comfort their song refreshing and alive, if only they could talk.

Silent swings do not sneer and send sneaky glances cutting to the bone but nor can they smile,
offer a cheery anecdote or a shoulder to cry on. Oh to be noticed.
Sometimes I’ll pretend to be one of the people shopping for treats,
the pretence doesn’t last long.
Somehow I am even less noticed than before no money have I to spend.
Then I see others wandering aimlessly collecting nothing and I realise no-one notices them either,
a world of closed faces and steely determination.

A destination to be found,
a mission to complete with no time for anything else,
And I, the silent observer know more than they,
the sight unfolding chilling me through as,
if they do not notice each other they are never going to notice me.

So forever I’ll be wandering lost betwixt night and day,
the wise observer who’s never heard, a waiting soul,
waiting to fade out of this world and into the next,
hoping, always hoping, that all will be better then.