To Be Seen Again. Poem by Jethro Kisakye Mark

Here I am, fallen and lonely,
Watching the sun rise in the certainty of disappointment,
Watching it fade into a boredom that eats the hours whole.
All day I cry, wondering what it feels like to be seen again.

I struggle with my passions, my glorious passions.
My pen trembles like something dying in my hand,
And my pages stay pale, empty of the poetry
that once poured from me like breath.

Come with me, see me fallen and crying.
Watch me groan beneath this weary, endless life,
Watch me sink into the abyss of fading time,
Its edges closing softer than a grave.

Come along, and stay by me,
Hold what is left of me as I meet my cruel end,
And when the silence finally takes my voice,
Let it be known that I still longed to be seen.