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Thursday 5 May 2016

I Have Gotten Over My Fright


I had a friend. 

He died a sad death. 

But he kept coming 

around. 

He would not stay under


the hard ground. 

He would not leave me 

alone. 

Everywhere I heard his 

pathetic moan.


Everywhere I seen his 

hopeless face. 

Even after I put away my 

black lace. 

Up to Heaven I hoped he


would go

even though down below 

is the place 

I thought he ought to 

patrol.


But, alas, to neither did he float. 

Preferring to haunt me 

and 

gleefully gloat. 

Late in the night.


Early in the day. 

Him always there. 

Never going away. 

What a fright. 

Dead eyes


watching me 

in the night. 

Never alone 

but, oh, so lonely. 

A dead man I could see


but

could no longer 

caress slowly.  

A dark shadow of a man 

that was no longer real.


Like a deep cut that refuses 

to heal. 

He alone was dead. 

But

he alone was in my head.


I shut my eyes tight. 

I fought him with all 

my might. 

He wanted me to cry 

all through the night.


Pleasure he got out of

twisting the knife. 

Misery craving friends. 

He could not 

understand


that his death was the end. 

Still he is there

but 

I no longer care. 

I ignore his stare.



And smile through the night. 

I have gotten over

my fright. 


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