Ghost

I believe in this ghost because she has no wings she will stay in her grave till the digger finds her she is very real unlike other ghost flesh like my flesh, bones like my bones. Sweat like my sweat, and blood like my blood in this grave, on these fields. I believe in this ghost because she is very real faithful and loyal to the chains that hold her buried in this place, this grave on these fields. On these very lands where my fathers toiled. Grounds of my own, grounds of my birth a people destined for greatness with a dream that is but a ghost buried under these rocks rocks of corruption, rocks of bad governance. Rocks of illiteracy, rocks of poverty many many rocks of other things these serve as chains across her grave yet i hold my believe strong because i know a time will come when the digger-man will break through these chains and this ghost long buried will rise to haunt.