They pass through me like specters
Shades of something that was
And can never be again
Things said, things done
They matter not anymore
And pass on in memory
Silent memoirs of happiness
Am I invisible to you?
Should what you say matter?
And I fret that they cannot feel my touch
But, as they pass, I hope for one last chance
That they might touch my heart and stay as such
Alas, though your fingers slip from view
My heart breaks to see them yearn for someone else
As invisible, my pleas and cries to you
As transparent as the glass inside your self
Darling, you know that what I speak is true
Will she be invisible to you, too?