A Ghost of a Man
Curled up and acting cowardice
neck pulled back in for none to see
hardened by an ancient windstorm
this shell hath show no part of me
Borrowed bands of past assumption
where heads dig out of soiled sand
hidden deep in depths of perception
flightlessness grabs hold your hand
Sun drips low a hint of wonder
creep into this foreign land
windows look despite the darkness
in stillness lies a ghostly man
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
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