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| Paranoid |
Another scratch, a whisper of a scrape
against a somewhat distant alleyway
and then movement
from me
away
Away
AWAY
way away, I pray
but a twitch
in the shadows
a fleeting glimpse
perhaps?
or not.
what am I seeing?
am I imagining this?
is nothing there?
or is it him. her. it.
them.
are they relentless
in their endless quest
for me?
why do they mirror my every move
in every door
to the side of every building?
smoking a cigarette and reading the paper
not looking at anything.
seeing everything.
especially me.
the bastards.
who are devoid of mercy.
and have slain my will.
and have stolen my hope.
they will not quit.
for I am the hunted.
I am their prey.
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