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The sleepwalker

Like a ghost

Your face is white

You walk silently

Through the night,

You sleep walk

From room to room

Clinging to the hope

It will be daylight soon,

Your Victorian silhouette

Flickers across the wall

You tiptoe down the stairs

Then stop and hug the crimson hall.

You open your eyes

In front of the mirror

You don’t like

The person uncovered,

When asleep

You could bury

All of your memories to keep

By Gillian Sims

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