by Mathew Richard Carter
The day was darkened with
the presence of a demon.
It felt like I was being
followed by Hell itself.
Tortured in jest
behind my ignorant back,
by some kind of child
who mirrors my image
but not my intentions
and lurks within heavy
crowds. His evil eyes
are darkened with purple rings
of pain. His clothes are chameleon
with the wood mulch park where we play.
I stay close to mother, asking myself:
do I need to be so clingy?
Soon, I venture from the safety
of her grasp. I haven’t seen him
in awhile, thinking
he has disappeared from the vague
and general scenery of playground
jungle gyms and vibrant parkas.
Buried among the sea of children
where he blends and
hides and waits