Mr Skellington
If I was brought a skeleton,
the reanimated ghost.
Then he could feel alive again,
and to long full lives we would toast.
With cups full of red champagne,
unnatural reality at its most.
Watch as the unforsaken host,
bangs upon his bones.
Understand the wicked in our ways,
of being semipro’s.
Standing up for those unable,
feeling appreciation grow.
Then disabling the thoughts of man,
say my name three times, if you can.
You see, I hold faith in things unseen,
that live in shadow and in between.
One day the rain will all be over,
and the pain will just start to be seen.
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