The Shadows
There is a shadow in the corner of my mind
It haunts my restless nights and lethargic long days
A silent whisper pries both my past and present
The cold voice, infuriating and persistent
Always it reminds of weakness and transgressions
It urges my evil desires and obsessions
Each sweat filled night, I toss and turn to disregard
Constant preaching distracts my day’s agenda
My very soul can feel it dragging me downward
My mirror reflects a face of pain and anguish
My heart has become still and cold, I have no tears
I’m a nickname on a screen to the outer world
With the keys I whisper to them, come and play
My poetry recorded where nobody reads
I’m a shadow haunted by another inside
Two tortured brothers whispering in silence
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
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