Sometimes I don’t feel invisible at all, I feel too visible, like I’m standing too tall.
Everyone can see me, yet none truly gaze, a ghost in sunlight, lost within the haze.
My voice drifts softly, carried by the air, but no one catches, I parented to not care.
My laughter echoes, then vanishes away, a fleeting spark in the brightness of day.
I stand in crowds, yet alone I remain, a window with no face pressed against the pane.
All eyes may glance, but none truly see, the quiet storm that swirls inside of me.
Yet in this paradox, a strange beauty lies, a soul that wanders beneath open skies.
Invisible to most, yet alive in the light, a secret flame burning softly through the night.
I’m here, I’m loud, yet quietly fade, a living poem the world cannot braid.
Too much, too little, both lost in sight, a soul that shimmers in plain daylight.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 9:51 PM UTC
Sometimes I don’t feel invisible at all, I feel too visible, like I’m standing too tall.
Everyone can see me, yet none truly gaze, a ghost in sunlight, lost within the haze.
My voice drifts softly, carried by the air, but no one catches, I parented to not care.
My laughter echoes, then vanishes away, a fleeting spark in the brightness of day.
I stand in crowds, yet alone I remain, a window with no face pressed against the pane.
All eyes may glance, but none truly see, the quiet storm that swirls inside of me.
Yet in this paradox, a strange beauty lies, a soul that wanders beneath open skies.
Invisible to most, yet alive in the light, a secret flame burning softly through the night.
I’m here, I’m loud, yet quietly fade, a living poem the world cannot braid.
Too much, too little, both lost in sight, a soul that shimmers in plain daylight.
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