The Shadow

He stays at home
Wandering like a ghost
Not knowing what to hold
Time has no significance
Like sand through the hour glass
He sleeps
Day in day out

Occasionally
He wanders with eyes wide open
But those glassy eyes
Belie the emptiness within
What is it? You think

The scratching starts
Starts from one part
You try to shut your senses
But the scratching starts
So there is no running
You wait
For the sound to fade

Yes...
The shadow drifts
Back to the hollow field
In slumberland
Never mind the obvious irritants
At least there is peace
For now.