A shadow on the path ahead races ever further forwards,
It’s not yours, it’s something else, more and less than you,
Not a thinking thing, no mind, not knowing what it’s running towards,
Every passing day, hope shatters, every day it builds anew.
You cannot join this spectral form, it’s only there when you are not,
Elusive always to its seer, while all the others see it not,
This thing’s the light that might have been, but now it’s only dark,
A glance you cast into the glass, looking back, the guilty mark.
The morning comes, the mirror breaks, a face in pieces starting back,
Later then, these shards are lifted, pieced together, razor keen.
As you walk, thoughts spin and weave, ever yearning for a track,
The others do not, could not grasp, what sits and waits behind unseen.
But hurry now, let’s carry on, these days they will not wait,
Though hope’s heavy, while it hurts, we cannot let it go,
Those well meaning words of wisdom, stinging as they come too late,
Another day is passed, and then, one later day it’s time to go.