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They’re always watching, following me
I can feel their presence everywhere I go
I tried to listen to them, I felt them calling me
So I welcomed them in and let me go
I come upon a rickety old bridge,
glancing down I wonder what it
would be like to float free.
Free of this life and all that it brings.
That would be something else entirely.

Lost in thought, I soon realize
I'm being watched.
Looking to my right,
I see a tall faceless figure in between
the barren trees.
It just stands there
staring at me.
What does it want?

I move along the bridge, my heart
racing at every step.
I hope my time
has not come, for I want to leave on
my own accord.
I stop just short of a rotting
board. I hear nothing but eerie silence.

My heart still racing, I turn around, noticing
the figure is there no more.
What could this possibly mean for me?
Is it really my time?
Am I being lead to my untimely demise?
These questions remain unanswered.

Next thing I know, I fall through the floor.
The last thing I see before I hit the water below,
is that figure again even slender than before.
The last face I'll ever see,
is that faceless figure staring back at me.
The Slenderman.
apiwe Nov 2018
I've been watching you
With her.
I've been writhing in shadows
Waiting for her.
To let go of your hand
So I can pull you into my shadows.
Away from her.
Vyiirt'aan Dec 2017
The master called forth their students
To carve their names in stone
The eternal bond eroding the tablet
The cobble roaring and rolling
Along the beak of the mountain pass

The master chiseled their marks;
The students followed - their hammers
Slamming in unison, the sonorous ringing;
A symphony of erosion on the brittle plate

Elated by the performance, the stone screamed
It echoed through the valley

"Fear not", the master preached and turned to their students
"The bond of stone is as brittle as paper but holds our names for eternity"
They shackled a sevenfold amongst the surface and punctured the heavens

Glimmering in the sunlight, the incandescence of the molten stone
Passed through the iridium stakes - the fractured hammers

A carving of pain, created by the love the students held per desperation
Students of the broken stone, their efforts unspoken;
The mold of a statue of hope stood in eternity
Their love echoing through the valley
Graff1980 Oct 2016
Addiction makes me
a sick clown watching
a killer circus
filled with empty seats
and dead animals.

This wickedly twisted world
spins me around
like a broken carnival ride
that goes faster and faster.
While chuckling *******
wear plaster smiles
I sit sick and vomiting
spewing lines of black ink
half-truths obscured
by metaphors and similes.

The nightmare men
stare and grin at me
military twin to the police
wearing violence menacingly
strangling the landscape
with rubble, mace, mud,
glass, bullets, and blood.

I would wear goggles
to protect me from
their blood soaked insanity
but I prefer to look
with crystal clear
chlorine eyes
that burn
the very core of me.
Graff1980 Jul 2016
I am a sick *******
Sweet friend
Emotion fiend
Seeking stories
Wanting your
gorgeous pain
To hold
To harbor
The albatross
At the arbor
Flying to the dying ship
That weight around your neck
That anchors you to ****
That razor blade
You want to use to cut it
I am a vampire of sorrows
******* up injustice
Then spitting these flitting verses
Back out like sputum
So others can use them
To make us all more human
Though my wrists cramp with heartbreaks
I still write at night by lampshade
Sipping small vials of nightshade
Hoping to take your pain away
And plant posies with all that poison
harmony crescent Dec 2015
how many faces have passed by
i can not count

what each face's life was like
i cannot tell

but i can imagine

what a privilege to be amongst so many
intricate lives

but they don't see me
or remember me

but that is perfect
i like it that way

not about me

im a bench sitter
a face rememberer
a open eyer
life ponderer

a people watcher
David W Oct 2015
Spyglassman,
     The watcher.
           Far removed,
                  untouching,
                          ­Still distant;
                      Keep Vigil!
                 Watch over,
           Leave us not,
Our watcher —
                                                                ­                                       — Spyglassman
This one is just a comedic piece I wrote while watching an old man surveying the sea with his spyglass the other day. I was just reflecting on life and the ways in which we amuse ourselves. I'd be happy to hear thoughts, critiques, or feedback, but know that this is more an over-dramatization of a character I observed from a distance for a few hours. It is not something I have put great thought, effort, or care into.
Ethan Veidt May 2015
On brown earth and fields of clovers,
a glade has grown to be.
Its cool breeze and green leaves
offer peace and solace to me.

Spears of sun pierce through the shade
and paint the thirsty wood.
Its tendriled veins writhe and stretch,
beneath a canopied hood.

Atop the ferns a parascope rises
swaying back and forth.
It moves to the left, it moves to the right,
and then I hear a snort.

My dog eared friend brings to me,
a long and pointed gift.
But such a prize is recognized
to leave just as quick.

The air is filled with warbeled songs
from treetops far and near.
But an incessant buzz cuts like unkindness
and comes to fill my ear.

I see it plain above my zenith,
a machine of flying plastic.
Its rotors spin in four successions,
it floats and moves - stochastic.

This hovering sentinel watches all
with a tiny gazing eye.
But who's to gain, learn, intrigue,
by spying from the other side?

From up so far a world so small:
he sees himself a king.
Out of dangers, out of touch,
to him no harm can bring.

And though he thinks that he remains
concealed, secure, untracked.
He does not know, below the grove,
I am staring back.
playing fetch with my dog when our fun was interrupted by a nosy R/C drone.  5/21/2015
John K Trainer Oct 2014
See the people watcher
Still as a mantis
Endless ambient sounds, unidentifiable
Does not prevent his gaze
He studies her eyes; her smile
And undresses her mind
The watcher finds himself
Transfigured
Her thoughts are not easily uncovered
A coffin, sealed; undefiled
The watcher will only find him,
Looking out as he looks in
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