Shadow People

Alright, this is my first Paper Thursdays exercise. Don't freak out if this poem is kind of darkish. I've been meaning to write about the Shadow People for some time now.

I have so many stories, poems and ideas in my head at all times. When something happens to me that's monumental, I sometimes think about it via writing. It just comes to my head that way. I blame years of studying literature and a deep love for written feelings.

Poetry generally isn't my forte. So just go with it.  I'll work on the happy, sappy thing for next week.

The Shadow People

My cousin once scolded that I shouldn't stay up all night,

As I occasionally find myself doing,

Otherwise,

I would start seeing Shadow People when it was light.

My mind doesn't stop swimming, rowing;

It needs time to relax with bright lights glaring on.

Sometimes,

I need to forsake the things that ring.

The Shadow People invite me to be their pawn,

And oftentimes, I willingly sign in to play.

That way,

 I don't need to vilify my eyes to pretend to be gone.

Even later, as I see Sun with its straight, narrow rays,

I don't regret the Shadow People's hospitality

Because

They always have plenty of irrelevant things to say.

Now I certainly sound like one of the creepers I see

When in the night, all that is truly left to dwell

At home

Is without heart, soul or mind — it's Only me.