The Silent Magician

He watches from the crowd

Keeping an eye on my figure

As I blunder through the evening

His eyes say-

I’m right here if you need me.

I am too aware of his watchful eyes

All of these people

I could suddenly care less about

…Still sifting through chaos

I have almost forgotten

His eyes are still watching me

Walking through this house

I am stung repeatedly

By vicious mutant locust-bees

Their stingers are all in the back of my hand….

No one comes to save me.

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This is a poem I wrote about a dream that I had.