Ghosts
I know for sure that they exist
I have seen them with my own eyes
at all hours of the day and night
since I was a small child
spirits, specters, phantoms, ghosts
whatever one wishes to call them
Striding down the sidewalk
ducking through doorways
descending the stairs
casting shadows on the walls
wandering the halls
No moldy shrouds or clanking chains
or mournful wails
appearing as solid and vital
as if blood still pulsed through
arteries and veins
before they suddenly vanish
silently from sight
like a bubble bursting
as they pass back through the veil
The dead do not frighten me
What sends a shiver down my spine
Causes my body to shake in fear
my heart to quiver
after all these long years
though there are those who insist
that it exists
I have never seen love
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