The Creaks in the Cracks
by Mark Edgemon
He shrouds himself in the abstruse; the hidden recondite;
Tucked away between the air that he breathes
And the one day that never comes.
Lonely in his obsession; myriad watchers; wishing for stunted praise;
Yet they pity the deficient fool, who he once was and twice became.
He waits…
© 2013 Mark Edgemon
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