Maybe we just.

I have a hypothesis,

maybe the words we don’t speak

are held in our insides.


Creating similar copies of ourselves.

Each one of those copies

having their own thought and feelings.

These “clones” will be waiting,

to get attention of their creator.


Each creator see them as shadows

they must not get out,

because there is always the fear of what

the world will say about them.


Each part don’t understand

the other.

That is when conflicts appear.


The clones will began to hold grudge,

against their creator.

Until they become what their initiator saw them as,

just shadows.


If only those shadows that were created,

remained as just shadows

but they don’t.

Shadows will began to get stronger,

feeding from our insecurities and fears.


Shadows later on will be


Demons that will be hidden,

in the darkest parts of us.



This poem is about: 
Our world


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