Shadows

Laying on my bed, trying to watch the shadows move.  They wont budge as much as I stare, nor as long as I wait.  They wont grow away or near the objects from which they are cast.  They move at the speed dictated by the bed light which controls them. They seek not sorrow in their suspension, nor will they ever find joy.  No.  They hold fast, rigid, scared and unchanging.  They will be set free with the closing of the light, to wander aimlessly back into the darkness of the night.