In the dark recesses he stands,
Coated in the shadows.
Sometimes he speaks,
Demanding.
Usually he waits,
A silent figure.
But always he invades,
An unwelcome presence,
Digging through my memories,
Reordering my priorities,
Changing my intentions.
Uninvited.
ooh, nice I like it! :)
Beautiful.
Makes me think. :)
Which is the best thing a poem can do.
Aw! Thank you so much!