Poetry attempts.

The Sly Silhouette.

We all know, what a shadow is-

The sly silhouette that follows us everywhere,

Formed by the barricaded light,

Present, when we know, and when we're unaware.

My shadow, is a curious being,

It changes shape with my changing posture,

Yet,expressionless, when I'm bombarded with emotions.

It seems to have an inscrutable structure.

The sun shines, bright at noon,

And there stood, my shadow, stubby and short.

Dusk arrived, inviting dear shadow again,

And now its ahead, standing proud and tall.

I wonder, sometimes, that this shadow of mine,

Is it lifeless, or is it animate?

Or just a contemporary incarnation of mine?

Or,does it face the struggles I face,driven by Fate?