Haunted Fame

I’m that ghost

The spirit that you hear howling in the hallways.

I’m the Invisible Man that you sense around you

Yet you fail to share a spare moment of your days.

A mirage of a man that gets lost in Life’s Traffic

Only recognized when your social club has emptied out

You stop for a while, feel the empty and cold air

Isn’t such tragic?

I’m the invention that the public doubts will take off

With purpose in society

Like an airplane

In my years of living

Failure to connect with new souls

Since the Cats in The Cradle

with Their Silver Spoons

and you are the slow moving one

Wishing to be more like that...

Wondering what recipe that success needs in its soup

To out perform the cooks who make such a reality

and scoop out bowls for fans with their

Awards and Name’s Ladle.