I died 25 years ago.
Before then life was great.
I had family that could have been a sitcom, drama, comedy, or adventure.
Today that family is gone, never to return.
I have friends that were friends,
now they live and I am a ghost.
Out of sight out of mind.
The real me is gone and what is left is the decayed mass of flesh waiting to be put to rest.
Being dead since I was five is a hard thing to cope with.
Those who once love the life that I seemingly brought,
now smell my death and have gone to live their lives, love and all.
As for me, ghosts have no friends or families or love that they can hold.
Like all things that have been dear to me,
they past through me and have gone.
All that I have left is cold and grey,
I see no light and feel no warmth.
There is no one to touch.
The time has come for me to accept my death and move on.
There is but one problem,
my heart.
So broken and beaten,
so robbed of it's happiness and joy,
so much pain and everyday I suffer and suffer, and suffer.
I am dead but, hurtfully, my heart lives on.

Rodney J.

9/08/08