poems

All you cannot find

All you cannot find

8/4/13

A magical inclination a touch of broken glass.
The thick red bloodied finger.
A pain that will not last.

The salty taste of poison in the pipes that are your veins.
The runaway discretions like a thousand midnight trains.
The howling sound of wolves in the crazy pitch dark night.
When your heart begins a thumping and you fear you’ll be alright.

When you reach out behind you and look around to see,
A creepy silhouette that you soon realize is me.

Don’t be too concerned at all you cannot find.
I’m simply make believe.
I’m every fear within your mind.

Copyright G.P Williamson 2014

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