A Lost Soul in Brooklyn, NY

A poem about how I've been feeling for the past couple of yours, or really my entire life to be exact. I took a poetry class recently (which I passed) and well, here's a poem.

I’m an invisible soul wandering the streets while the world passes me by.
Head up at the sky wondering who I am, why I’m here, what I’m going to do, where I’m going.
My voice is silent as a breeze on a beach on a distant island. 
The leaves falling from the trees sway in the wind and fly right through me. 
People, with their happy faces - the faces of somebodies, walk right through me.
Sometimes I don’t know if I’m dead or alive.
It would be nice if someone would see me - just once.
Just a glimpse to assure me I’m real and not some fictitious person wandering the streets of New York City in the Fall, hands in pocket and eyes on the sky.
But, in that doubtful pessimistic depressed heart of mines…
I’ll always be a lost soul from Brooklyn, NY.