For Years He Stood going on about not being able to get in the gate!

The Clairaudience on him

Made me feel like stretched wool

Strangled in hate

Tried and tired

I just couldn't break free

Same words sentences and phrases on repeat

Couldn't tell it was me?

Something said to me

I got on I moved on yet it continually felt like nothing had been accomplished 

Same old set

Couldn't tell it was me?

Freaked out

Name rung out

Why should I need to know who it may be?

Blinked my eyes

And in a blink of an eye I seen this guy

Pasted greasy dark floppy stringy hair

Creamish suite

With his leg already in the gate at the top of those old familiar basement stairs!

The rear of the house

Those front steps where once blood red

I can't stop

Yet i can't go on

Fizzled out are the design patterns before they come

A cheeky guy looking as stealthly as mud pie

With small slit eyes

Pale to very fair light skinned

Such was his complexion

No contrast from the suit he was wearing

How did he just slip in directly looking right at me yet he was not real and only appeared in a split second vision.

Just another day in the life of a sketch in which each line drawn matches each line of the poem

Though the character drawn

is shown as if a whistle is being blown!

That is not so

For a doorway stands or sit below which ever you prefer

Natural Flowism

A Freedom.of Being!