Forever A Stranger Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Not recognizing life, it trips and stumbles by, tearing my
heart as it goes, bleeding slowly, gently, life flows ever
out of me.

Taking nothing for granted, hearing only what I am
supposed to hear, molding what it is, I am supposed to be.

Trying always to be good, and never being understood,
because I am on a different plain than most.

Interior music is fainter than most others, yet I hear and
respond to it.

No one else can hear, feel or see what I do, so forever, a
stranger I will be.