We live in a land where ghosts linger,

And I remember this everyday,

Weaved into my memories they lie,

Their faces carved before my eyes.

Every street I roam daily,

Those spirits roam too,

Doing exactly what I can remember

Them doing with me with no temper.

But their tempers rose,

And ember flows,

And thats how they passed

Away in my mind,

How they turned to ghosts,

In my blood, in my bones

And I’m trapped as a clairvoyant,

Locked deep, taunting inside.

I feel their presence,

Wherever I go,

Their soul lies in the air,

And I’ll beg and only feel despair.

-

I just wanted to say someone described me in terms of writing as, and I quote, “a poet, who writes whimsical, almost haunting poems” and I love that so much :)