The world would still turn without you.

Is that not an awful truth to accept?

And yet I’ve walked through my whole life a ghost, or so it seems, no footprints,

not a trace.

Nobody was

here

and they’ll laugh, it’s all a joke,

but I am not Odysseus, I am no hero, and it’s a cry for help

but nobody hears.

Can you imagine? Speaking and nobody listens?

Waving through a window,

as they say, but it’s not enough, never enough,

and sometimes it hurts.

But then you. Creature of light and happiness,

dancing through life and beloved by all –

you heard me?

And even when there were no footprints behind me,

nothing to show where I’d stepped,

you saw

and you heard my cry,

and I’m not afraid anymore.

You’re here, warmth and joy and kindness; you’re real

and you’ll stay.

I believe that.