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The Stranger

Standing here There’s a shadow through the mist Trying to get there so see who it is Wondering why they see me No sound to hear Just the sound of the trees Blowing in the breeze My feet won't move They are stuck in fear One foot moves then another Very slow I need to see who waits for me Why do they watch me? Through the trees I'm closer now, and then I awake Who was this stranger looking at me? Waiting to see who I would be I’ll never know I need to sleep I need to sleep And go back to see If the stranger there Was only me Looking at me through the trees

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 11/3/2009 5:41:00 AM
That's so...thought-provoking. I love the mystery in it.
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Date: 8/2/2009 11:41:00 AM
Interesting writing. Sara
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Date: 8/2/2009 11:24:00 AM
I have so many dreams where it seems that I am the watcher or the one being watched or even both, good poem
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Date: 8/2/2009 10:21:00 AM
Dreams seem so real at time, and some of the them actually do mean something, sometimes. God bless, welcome to soup,Moses
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