Running from the Right

Hands clasped behind his back,
he walked in circles as if being stalked
by a past and future suddenly unwanted.
His family thought that he was haunted
by a sense of great responsibility.
Because he'd never let them see him true.
Lost behind his masks and attitudes.
Now all his moods kept chasing him
around and through that awful bend
of linear time and spatial antitheses.
While all the magic of his youth
was squandered, spent so long ago.
The summer returned as he wished for the snow.
While autumn waited patiently within.
The walls that held the losses in were growing very thin.
Wishing all the weight into a younger pair of hands.
Oh endless plight. He paced the night.
As running from the right, he disappeared...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .