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Ghosts The clock ticks slowly My mind seems to have shut down No sound, no noise Suddenly, a door creeks I've lost the power to run To scream, shout Heated tears sting my chestnut eyes No humor in them, only fear But what is fear? This strange, yet familiar thing? A product of imagination gone wild
Yet, i cannot stop imagining Two people walk forward Two ghosts from my past The first so gentle The first person my father I run to him, gaining strength as i do He is not solid, a figment of light I let out a whimper of outrage He can be seen , but not held Yet, he smiles I turn to the second face And i marvel at the face of a boy i once loved He smirks Typical
I have no more fear His laugh echoes Unaware of my lovely intensity I reach for his face How foolish I back away A scream frightens me I realize it is my own I'm alone in bed Crying Only a dream.
This poem is by D'aja Chenet, otherwise known as me, Danirox. Originally written 12/31/09 and revised 5/30/10
