[2017]
I move my hands.
They create pictures on the wall.
My shadow follows me.
Entertaining the only people I trust.
Myself, and my shadow.
At night, my shadow leaves me.
Where does it go to?
Does it have a parallel life?
I ponder these questions as I sit alone.
The day comes back.
Where'd my shadow go?
YOU ARE READING
poem
Poetrya miscellaneous poetry archive ive had since about 2017. sorry for its disrepair.
