Am I a piece of furniture,

Always there, but never important unless needed?

Sitting in a quiet corner of an otherwise noisy place,

Collecting dust, forgotten, am I that irrelevant?

I stand alone in a house that can never be home,

Invisible, unheard, am I even a person?

Yet, I’m here. I’m aware.

And in this silence, my heartbeat, I can hear.

The world might ignore me, but I do see,

My hidden strength, behind the veil of invisibility.

Maybe I should ignore the ones who don’t care,

And focus on finding my inner light,

To battle the shadows around me, if I dare.

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