Nothing Poem by Phil Soar

I appear and yet I am no illusionist
I fade and yet I am no sound technician
I cry and yet I am happy inside
Mistaken Identity?
Nothing seems conclusive
What I make of myself means nothing to others
Except those who care about me
And yet I have no compulsion to see the future
I have no impetus
I have no method to my madness
I appear happy on the outside
Yet on the inside there is nothing
Except the internal flow of my blood
Searching through my veins
For that source that keeps me upright
Walking
Searching for something
Anything
To make me smile
And yet I am no clown
And yet I am no comedian
I retreat inwardly
Seeking a room with no view
Closing my eyes there is nothing
Nothing
And I am alone