Markus Jay Poet Free verse

Ghosts of the Past

the ghosts of the past    
             haunt 
  as slowly
  the clocks hands move

        waiting

              waiting

                     waiting
   for this moment to become
         yesterdays moment
  waiting

         waiting

                waiting
     for the present to become 
             the past
      but nothing changes
                    it all 
                 remains
                the same

the ghosts they haunt
rising up from below
their screams echo
  inside the void
       over

          and 
 
              over

                  and

                     over


    the mirror shatters
upon the reflections of yesterday
the shards cut
   deep

     again

         and

              again
              
                    and

                        again
stabbing like a murders
       jaggered edge 
              knife

as the wild wind 
      blows
 inside the hollows
 a whirlwind of destruction

          twisting

                   turning
leaving behind      
victims of fate

leaving behind scared wounds
that only the 
                   tick  
                       tock  
                            hands
                           can heal

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