Each of These Lines

A short, slightly unorthodox poem.

Each of These Lines, a Memory, a Shadowy Sillouette,

Of a person Lost, or Long-Forgotten.


Each of These Lines, a Thousand Ideas, each Brilliant in it's own way,

Teaming together to form a Consciousness, like fish to form a school.


Each of These Lines, a Presence, a Spirit,

Like a Flame, flickering, flaring, constantly changing. 


Each of These Lines, a Slash in my own Damned skin,

A tear in the Facade that holds me together.


Each of These Many Lines, a Friend who has Left or Abandoned me,

For which I Cannot find Any Comparison.

The End

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