Looking out from an locked in mind
It is all there
The thoughts of joy,
Reflections of past loves.
But do the young girls know?
Of the distance that life takes you.
They care for the body but not the soul
They talk and I’m there, in my wheelchair.
Thinking so many thoughts, they don’t see me
Stand right near me, but I’m not there to their eyes.
I wonder what they will become, when they’re done here.
They don’t know I’m in here, seeing them do things
Knowing they don’t care for me, it’s a job they do,
A body they lift, as they talk among themselves.
Why am I here, and not there, on the outside
Laughing with the girls, being a presence.
I look at others and wonder is that me?
A flat face of flesh without emotion
With only eyes to show the soul
Within the lifeless vessel.
I look and know I am
Here inside that.
And I think,