By BernardYoung

When The Past Shows Its Face

The façade crumbles
when the past shows its face.

‘Why are you here?
Go. Just go. Leave. I have
a family now. Go. Please.’

It breaks through. The past.
It breaks through.

‘What’s the matter?
You look as though
you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I’m fine.’



‘Who was that?’

‘No one darling.
It was no one.’

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