stretching for shadows <br />that hang on plastered walls <br />like empty ghouls <br />resigned to being trapped <br />in this dimension <br /> <br />inner turmoil projected? <br />or a nightwake phantom <br />as tangible as any entity? <br /> <br />I wipe the saliva from my cheek <br />focusing my mind on positive things <br />having sweated through <br />another set of sheets <br /> <br />one day, it will all be over. <br /> <br />this is only the beginning.<br /><br />Philip Hoom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-fourth-hour/
