Poetry Collection Vol. 3

Image by Anne Nygård via unsplash.com

Not Here 

I’m not sure what I fear

I look into people’s eyes

And they tell me I’m not here

I can’t make myself more clear

I’m afraid of all the lies

But I’m not sure what I fear 

I sense that the rush is near

As skeletal hands rise

My mind thinks I’m not here 

Thank you, my dear

I know you hear the cries

Then again, I’m not sure what I fear 

My eyes shed their final tear

As I begin to realize

I’m not sure what I fear

But I know it’s not here

– E.V.

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