Ghosts

They seem more active at certain times Not just at day or at night but When you are in a battle with your faith Ghosts can help you or be your nemesis The ghosts of loved ones who passed Often seem to invade dreams They are messengers or perhaps They are us and we are them reflecting The darkness and light of our present life Ghosts of loss and of ambitions Fruition of destiny we should welcome But we fear the unknown perhaps Because we have yet to know Our own ghosts well enough To call them by name Fearing pink brain to be insane Rather than face the reality That ghosts live inside of you and me All the things we wish to be All that we are all that we know But more so our ignorance and stupidity Stirred in a poetic soul food Feeding that which we obsess over We don’t have to wait till October To see a ghost for we have them close Whether we want to acknowledge it or not