Demons

Everyone has something they've done in the past that they see later as a Big Mistake. I have more than one but they are semi-linked to each other so the count gets confusing. This poem was written in the wee hours of the morning as I struggled with the addiction I had to the first Big Mistake (or the first part of the Big Mistake, depending on how you count them.)

"Demons"

I promised myself this evening
not to make the mistakes I have before
And a bare five hours later
they came knocking at my door

Soft seductive cries of longing
Come play with us, come play
I felt the tugs of temptation
yet managed to utter 'no' someway

The lure of past pleasures
slipping through my mind
but 'ware the one that follows them
for it is only sorrow that they find

I fought and paced and cajoled
they pouted, whispered, and plead
I managed at last to cast them out
and painted their door bright red

A few bright nails and hammer blows
applied to boards hard and stout
close the door quite securely
and so far have kept them out

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"Demons" ©1997 Lynn A. Davis