of the past. A smudge
A memory of fear
Hiding behind the wainscot,
in the cupboard,
under the fridge
on the stairs
it wasn't enough
Our ghosts didn't break the furniture,
wail through the night
|Not a ghost, more a haunted Fred (Angel cosplay)|
leave that for the living.
Hi, thanks for stopping by to read my poetry, I hope you enjoyed this week's spectral theme. For me, there's something very compelling about writing supernatural poems, to deal with bigger things. So I enjoyed "penning" this one. Not that a pen was involved at all, and I'm sure often isn't in the modern era.
Of course if you love poetry, why note check out the Tuesday Poem, for more poems new, and sometimes even old, here at the Tuesday Poem hub.
And lastly, not that this is really to do with the poem, just a random thought as I was tyring to think of a title - If ghosts are the things that haunt us, can we haunt them back? -
Have a great week,