I met myself one evening,
It was a chance encounter –
Like the chilled meeting of
A ghost from your darker past.

I stayed awhile –
Staring at me – while I stared back.
Neither me knew which to say –
Each the others misery company.

After time the ghostly figure asked aloud
“What is wrong with you?”
All that mine self could reply –
“What is right with  us?”

Questions which neither can deny,
Answers naught can create.