Shadows | A moving short poem

in poetry •  7 years ago 

Shadows

Shadows shed themselves upon me
And I cannot but wait for them to fade

The shadow who sheds its darkness upon me shall be called my enemy
For which I hold no compassion nor any clemency

The shadow which clouds me is often the work of my hands
The hands for whom I had other plans

But now this shadow must be gone
With all this darkness I must be done

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