Old Guy Photography

Branches Of Thought … Standing There …

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Standing There

Oh, I see them standing there, beyond the fence,

Crowded together in twos and threes just out of reach.

They look all knowing and wise without saying a word.

Their stares go through me,

And out of fear I have to look away.

Moments pass slowly, each tick of the clock an eternity,

But they remain standing there, looking, staring, standing,

Without a hint of a whisper

Exchanged between any one of them.

The coldness of their staring eyes weakens my legs,

And I can almost hear their laughter

Hanging tauntingly in the still air.

Relentless ...

Relentless …

Oh, I see them standing there, just beyond the fence,

In groups of twos and threes,

Spots of black and white randomly placed in scattered patterns,

With no uniformity in design or obvious purpose.

They stand there enjoying my discomfort,

Always chewing, always staring; never saying a simple word.

I know they are still standing there, staring down the roadway,

Their combined laughter stings my ears and pride.

In shame and disgrace,

I will risk no confrontation what-so-ever with my tormentors.

Instead of addressing them all I have quickened my pace;

I have chosen just to run away.

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Author: geezer94

I was told by my grandfather that if you are destined to hang you'll never drown. I have never been afraid of water . . .

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