Shadows in the roofbeams and figures at the door,
Eyes inside the wardrobes and shapes under the floor.
They cannot know, they only see,
But they are seeing you and me.
The curtain twitching people who lurk and hide in shade,
It is in our watched lives that we are broke or made.
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@overskill
S'up. I'm Overskill, and I write fantasy stories and some very abstract poems. Read some.
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