The Visitor

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this poem because it actually took place.

Submitted: July 14, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 14, 2017

A A A

A A A


Something was in my room,

With beams of light from its eyes.

I thought it was my doom,

But I became more wise.

 

A touch on my right ear,

Was a very good signal.

I had nothing to fear,

Still I shouted and ball.

 

The bottom half was like polished metal,

I just couldn't  see the face--only light.

It was like a petal,

Stood there in the night.

 

I screamed, and the thing slowly vanished,

Leaving me alone.

I was there completely famished,

Trembling in every bone.

 

The following day I understood,

An angel had visited me.

But I was not in the mood,

For such mystery.

 

The touching of the ear meant that I must listen,

It had not been given me to speak.

I saw how his garment had glisten,

And how I had woke up feeling weak.

 


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