2011 - Day 116

I see the paths as they flow by
When all of time stands still,
The colors differ, patterns too
In my mind they're real.
I try to touch them as they pass
But to no avail,
I try to stop them with my mind
But, again I fail.
Well they must be
A mystery
The ghosts of long ago,
Destined to walk
But never talk
To where God only knows.
I sit down upon a stump
And pout about the paths,
But then they turn and point to me
I fear their ghostly wraith.
I jump up
And run away
Escaping their colorful glow,
I hide in a shadow
No colors shall come
Till shadows monster swallows me whole.