PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There is a thing which cannot be seen, it is like winter's tired breath

Exhaled across powder snow, and through leafless trees

I am certain you have met this ethereal void

For I have found no one who denies its presence

One need only sit alone in a dark room and wait, it will come

Though incorporeal, it can be felt

In the same way one can feel a person staring from across the park

You know it by its chilling touch on your arms and neck

Flowing across the hairs on your back

You likely tell yourself it is imagined, that you have caused the sensation

With the strangeness tucked away in your mind

Do not be fooled into thinking yourself unique

We all have thoughts we dare not think

Let us ponder this fact, for everyone has experienced it

All who've lived have been caressed by that shivery hand

One must ask their self of the meaning of this occurrence

For numberless others have felt the same trepidation

Should that knowledge be a comforting thought and a relief?

Or perhaps does it mean that there truly stands a formless figure beside you

As you squirm, vexed in silent thought with that dreadful feeling

Of being watched while you sit alone in a dark room