Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
I've been staring into your bungalow from my rear bedroom window for about a month
My house looks down on you
You can't see me
I can see you

Why do you shuffle so?
What are you doing to that woman?
You are pathetic
When did you get so old?

Your hair is gone
Your back is stooped
You've lost your direction
Fool

You've come out to the garden
Your profile looks familiar
That scar on your chin
Wait....no wait
You are me
I had a house where I could see old neighbours occasionally. I didn't spy on them but had the dream that the man was actually an older version of me.
Brian Turner
Written by
Brian Turner  United Kingdom
(United Kingdom)   
37
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems