Purchase Print $20
The Man From the Past
I sat amongst a crowd
Of heavy smoking people
In the basement of a church
Beneath the heavy steeple
Telling jokes that were not funny
And asking me for money
It was there that I first saw him
Beneath the lowly shade
He wanted once to kill me
And bury me for dead
And now it’s he that haunts me
Deeply in my head
He saw and recognized me
In the shadow he remained
We did not speak a word
Or say each other’s names
I turned and ran so quickly
I fiercely ran away
From the man who wants to kill me
From the man who holds my grave
And so it was my past returned
And gently I escaped
From the man from the past
As I now walk away
artisan internet 