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This is poem whose imagined audiance is children. This doesn't mean I don't think adults can't enjoy it as well. The poem shows how a child's imagination can redifine and echo as the voice of his shaddow - thus sadly claiming the trusty shadow has left the boy's side.

Submitted:Feb 20, 2013    Reads: 21    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I stood atop a cliff's edge.

Languidly rolling from heel to toe,

preparing my bet now to hedge:

will It answer or stay just so

Quiet saturated every nook

as the jagged rocks yearned to speak.

Nature is lovelier than any book -

I gazed as though I owned the peak

there was a rumble and then a shout

and the wind threw out my voice

I couldn't help but let It out

I truly did not have a choice

It was a song when It left me

yet what answered was abrupt

there was none else that I could see

the words seemed to have been cut

as If someone the ends did steal

throwing my words back like stones

yet there was a sadness I wished to heal

so I ran home to tell of the speaking bones.

I found my aunt and told her all

she agreed t'was more than an echo's call

"it was your shadow speaking solo"

That's why the voice was hollow

This was no real entity

No specter in the night

Only my shadow standing up to me,

It was looking for a fight


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