Shadow Puppet

Dark as a thousand midnights

with only more darkness on the horizon,

trapped in a 2nd story window,

sealed in by the shadows

of the leaves from the street lights.


Escape from this visual asylum of my mind,

where shadows of the tree’s branches

play puppet master and pull the strings

in different directions of each heart beat

pumping within my darkened soul…


Strings continue to tug at the beats as

the needle to the record player descends down

in ghostly fashion, illuminating the room

with the soundtrack to our past life.

Sitting in a frozen state as the sounds of our music

bounce off the walls and leave me

trying to figure out a way to put my feelings

into words & not go off grammatical key.


No matter how far I reach into my soul for the truth,

what I grab only dissolves sporadically through

my fingers like grains of sand from a shattered hour glass.

Isolated in this padded room in my mind,

are these thoughts bound to a straitjacket?


Can you be my shrink so my words don’t get lost in the shadows?

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