The Shadow

I feel like a shadow.
A hovering second-step.
It�s like I am the ghost of my body, drifting in dark shapes and fleeing in light.
I drift, watching the moving and the actions of my life.

He cannot see me in the mirror and he doesn�t look for me on the wall
It is only when he stumbles into caves and forests that he looks at me baffling the air in his mouth, which steams the vision of his sight.

Red roses mean nothing no more.
Just as that first thought meant everything.
The eyes are the mirror to the soul.
And the Shadow is the truth in its step.

Reviews

[just is]

Red roses mean nothing no more.
Just as that first thought meant everything.
The eyes are the mirror to the soul.
And the Shadow is the truth in its step.

Raw and such to the point
well written write here. Like this alot.

[Matt Penrose]

Haunting and dark, this makes one think about what is being said. However, a few of the sentences could be shortened to enhance flow to make for an even more succinct poem.

[Damien Dsoul]

Raw and sublime existentialism at its best, and very capturing, too.