Paul Willason Poet Free verse

The Shadow Dwellers

Emerging from my teens
I had a head full
of ghosts to escape from -
inhabitants of an inner world
I kept to myself. Future life
was over there, 
at the end of a train line, 
a long road, the last port 
of call on a ship's long voyage.

I could never get far enough
away - they always 
found me hiding in some
masquerade, a clever cover
concocted to conceal - 
at times I even fooled myself.
Mirrors were a bane,
they told the truth 
and so I learned to look away.

A lifetime on 
they are still with me but now
I know each by name. 
There are days  
when they draw close 
and become weepy
as if seeking love,
though still afraid to leave
the refuge of my shadow.

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Daniel Henry Rodgers March 19, 2025 at 6:05 AM Hello Paul, O' so haunting and intimate, like a quiet reckoning with the ghosts we carry. I feel the weight of distance, of escape that never quite frees us, of shadows that learn our names. There’s something deeply human here, beautifully vulnerable. A poem of quiet truth. Spring Blessings, My Dear Friend, Daniel Paul Willason March 21, 2025 at 1:45 AM I thank you Daniel for your thoughtful, sensitive and compassionate comments. I think we all have shadows and within those shadows there are perhaps remnants of the child seeking absolution or acceptance or love. All part of the growth journey, shedding the armour and fear. Value your comments Daniel....take care, Paul