Probing my brain for some sense
to this mess I’ve made, knowing all the while,
that God created me with these five senses
because "I don’t see dead people".
I see random, ordinary strangers--
my mother’s best friend,
my father’s latest patient;
I see friends lost and enemies made;
I see families brought together by the pure magic of God’s ways
and then brought crashing down in the torrent of life.
And I laugh at that.
I laugh at their pain,
I laugh at their sorrow
because all I can think about is how bad I have it.
All I can think about is the things that I have lost in my life, not theirs.
I walk down the street
in my dreams or in my realities,
seeing and believing, seeing and disbelieving,
but seeing just the same.
The only thing is--
I wish I could see myself.