Never terribly far away, they clamour constantly to make their presence felt.. Suppressed, repressed, bubbling just below the surface, they jeer this veneer of stolid, solid middle-aged respectability "Hush", I tell them this is not the time nor place to show your face and we are not as young as we once used to be I guess I'd always just assumed that they would fade away and die dissolving with the remnants of my long-lost misspent youth But no, they tease and taunt and pester, these ghosts of rampant yesteryear. "Someday", I promise, "I will let you out to play again". And then, By God, let the world beware... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Where the Wild Things Are"
Showing posts with label What Lies Beneath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label What Lies Beneath. Show all posts
Sunday, September 06, 2009
What Lies Beneath
Labels:
P.J. Murphy,
poem,
poetry,
What Lies Beneath
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
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