between brick walls

Shouldering arms, letting things go

arms alas are trying to row

far away from days gone by

never wanting to see the sky

A smile, tear or whisper near

afraid of ghosts at each turn

alas no turn in this tunnel appears

to run into enemies unknown.

Caught instead in the crack of walls

waiting for spiders – the last call

whether up or down I go

without incident shall I ne’er know?

dementors wait in laughters chill

smiles that make souls shrivel!

where to go, what to do?

spiders everywhere, I am doomed.


About dairyman

A cat in a man's body who loves dogs. View all posts by dairyman

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