Bleh with Barry

Random with a cynical twist of lime.


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A hand print on a window glass,
A page left open in a book of poems,
A candle flickering in a windless room.

All clues that you’re still here.

Communing with me in ways
No mortal eye can ever see
Or seem to perceive.

Yet your presence is accosting me.

For years, I thought myself mad.
Letting the shadows on the walls
Fall into alignment of you.

Now, it is clear to me.

Begone from me you ill-wishing
Treacherous spirit. One
who bids me into the blackness.

My life now rests on a razors edge.

Written by uncannynerdyguy

April 22, 2010 at 4:00 pm

Posted in Poetry

Tagged with , , , , ,

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