Shadows Poem by Matthew Boisjolie

Dreams between the green hills,
floated as a fog cover floating inches above the floor,
dedicated to keeping it real,
stuck staring at the trees,
paranoid,
yet ignored towards the end,
as people act like you don't exist,
the land is made of hopes and lost fights,
overseeing the hurricane from within the eye,
the emotional downfall that was bought,
at the darkness market,
unleashing it at the end of the night,
to vanish in the break of light,
i see it hiding in the shadows.