Poemhead

Haunted

It seems I am subject
To the same repeating lines
Bundled up in symmetry       
These marching tired rhymes

I come to crest my horizon
Finding more of the same
Rotten flesh and daffodils
And an ancient repeating refraine

Numb to the stagnance
Of this awful bubbling well
Alone is were I started
And alone it seems I will dwell

Terrified by the shadows
Movements big and small
I can see no way out
Smothered against this wall
                                                      
There is no hope for happiness
When the shadows run you down
Even bathed in sunlight
On shadows you will drowned

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