April 27, 2015


An Invisible Man


he is there, but he is not

someone any would see

he has no known worth

as these who laugh, play

converse, do great work




he too lives, and yet



he dies, he does not live

those around him live

he dies

though cloaked by life

he dies unnoticed and alone


inside, where his heart

shrivels from a drought

of care, absence of hope

which more abundant bless

lives more worthwhile


An Invisible Man
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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