Shadows Do Not Speak
I am afraid of my own shadow,
It walks beyond me.
And I am now the shadow,
And I am afraid. I
walk ahead,
and I am the shadow,
I am afraid.
I am poor and
I am a shadow.
In my poverty,
I am only shadow.
I wish I had more to say
But shadows do not speak,
I am afraid of a shadow,
And that shadow is me.
I have no blood in these veins
but words that run as coarse
and dark as when they first
encounter arteries of secrets
that burst onto this page.
Perplexing and more wonderful because of it. Makes one wonder and think. Love it!
Me, poor me! The muse, she seeks my mind...
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Take the time to make some sense/Of what you want to say/And cast your words away upon the waves/Bring them back with Acquiesce/On a ship of hope today/And as they fall upon the shore/Tell them not to fear no more/Say it loud and sing it proud/And they...
I love the line, "But shadows do not speak." The poem is very schizophrenic and I love it.
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