Among the crowd,
a stranger lurks.
He looks like them,
acts like them,
although,
he doesn’t feel like them.

The eyes in the street are all the same –
“I want someone to know my pain”.
Swimming among the sea of faces,
a ghost moves amongst them.

Taunted by memories of the past,
the rewiring of brain chemistry into a mess.
Voices of torture,
of pain, of sorrow,
the picking of decaying flesh.
What’s left?

Another face in the crowd,
Just another guy with a story,
No more or less special than
the blade of grass that’s underneath him.
Just another name in the wind.