The man who isn't there

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The other day on the stair,
Sat a man who wasn't there.
He's still not there again today.
I only wish he'd go away.

On my neck every hair
Alerted me to watching stare.
I turned and there sat the man.
So, with that, I turned and ran.

Still I'm stuck on second floor.
Stairs between me and my door.
If I set foot on the stair,
The man sent me a warning glare.

I'd been trapped there for five days.
Every day my stomach ached.
If I stayed for one more day,
Surely I would starve away.

My sanity had taken a toll.
Being trapped had gotten old.
I beat the man at his own game.
I slit my wrists and bled away.

Now I sit at the top stair.
At bottom sits a man not there.
In my home, on haunted stairs,
Sit two dead men no longer here.

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