Shadow Man
A shadow falls across
the path he’s yet to walk;
like the one that follows;
torments, bedevils, then
all the lightness swallows.
A shadow falls across
his thoughts each day he wakes;
ebbed by evening’s booze,
which blow by blow spawns an
ever darkening bruise.
A shadow falls across
the doorway where he sleeps
on cardboard featherbed;
in dreamless slumber where
there is no road ahead.
A shadow falls across
the folk that see him lie;
walk past without a thought
towards this fallen soul
whose life has come to naught.
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2024
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