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Jul 2019
Encased in basement shadows
where spiders hang from ceiling corners
like dead men hang upon the gallows,
stirs the ghost of a forgotten child-
his body rots in a shallow grave,
but still his eyes are glowing wild.

Sitting alone in harmless study,
I saw his eyes before me burning-
for what rage still held him home
like an arrow lodged inside his brain,
my stomach set to churning
in helpless wonder of his pain.

Sweating and frantic, I called out:
β€œwhat is this visitation about?
Begone, if you mean to do me harm!”
Fixed upon the air alone,
those emeralds held their bitter tone,
and from the dark there stretched an arm.

It held my shoulder, and in alarm
a scream bellowed from all around
that froze my body to the ground.
Then the eyes flew through the floor,
and the scream flew out the door-
and I don't go down there anymore.
Matt's Mobile Poetry Lab
Written by
Matt's Mobile Poetry Lab  23/M/Dislocated
(23/M/Dislocated)   
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