Wishing That The Devil Isn’t Here

Wishing that the
devil isn’t here
…I can roam my earth.

Tracing the air
with the thin stares
of my eyes…dense.

Rain perpetuates my
inner desire to
go outside…I breathe.

I open the pages of
a fairy-tale book…
…Smelling the old papers.

Some things flash like
sinewy actions from
the wonderland…sparks.

Sending old memories to
fetch the images in my
mind…I get lost of time.

Wishing that the
devil isn’t here
…I can remove myself.

2015

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About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Wishing That The Devil Isn’t Here

  1. Very nice my brother!

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