The Hangman

Dreams course through;
Constricting , a noose,
Draining your oxygen dry

Attached to paranoia ;
... Back and forth ,
Eyes twitching with it

Until they catch the wind,
Until the flames are fanned,
the slow acceptance of 'real'

Your pencil draws the line,
Transforming fantasies ;
Shaping the perfect path

no more empty direction;
The rope is severed
You release the Hangman
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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