Listening to that voice again
Walking alongside the same body
Letting similar views into that soul
Nothing has changed and ever will
Unless…
If only he could put the heart to rest
Softly breathe without a care
His senses numbed to the fears
A passenger like all the others
Unaware…
What would it be like to be another
Like everyone else, on the outside
Resting as a mere spectator
To a show he could escape
Each time…
The pain of being a self unbearable
Looking at the billions around
To be another, not to be so many
Not to know them, understand
Ever…
He wishes a ghost could be his make
A zombie of sort dead of feelings
So perhaps he could smile once again
Loved, hated, cold as stone
For all time.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and dozens of other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.