Doldrums Of Multiple Sclerosis, The Solitude Of Spirit

I used to worry about if the world would miss me when I was gone, would I have made enough of an impact on it whilst I was here. Over 14 years home, not so worried about that anymore as I am the world knowing I'm still here. Not talking anymore about the whole wide world, are they going to build monuments and statues. Talking about the people that know me, will they know I'm still here when I hit 20 years in captivity? Will people that I've known for years ask if I'm still alive, or will they know, one way or the other? My biggest fear now is that I've become one of those people what others say, I didn't know he passed away, or one that goes weeks unnoticed in their rooms. I miss being viable, being accountable, being me.