I shuffle along the streets here out of place
Like a ghost
Not belonging in the scene I see
Picture postcard holiday destination for those around me
But a memory of being haunted ... for me
Like a ghost
I watch and I witness
The lapping waves on the rocky shore
The clear blue sky
The winter sun
But it means nothing to me at all
Because I dont belong here
Yet how can I end this life
If I have already died inside?
I know even a ghost has soul and awareness
So perhaps there really is no death at all ...
