Some precious family heirloom handed down the generations
I inherited demons, the sort of demons that cant be wrapped in brown paper
to be stowed away in attics or draws and forgotten.
My demons keep my shadows company when there is no sun
Bequeathed on me are demons that try to break me
They whisper to me in the darkness, try to persuade me
with their demonic thoughts.
These malignant creatures cannot be tamed or squashed
no measurement of potions, lotions or absolutions will defeat
them in their cause.
I tried to guard myself with sobriety, but even then, the need to abstain is torturous
but over the years I come to realise that my demons don’t like love ,you see
it makes the scuttle towards my shadows looking for company
For they don’t like me to be happy.
©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.