Museum: the Haunting
It was hours past midnight;
a time everyone was deep asleep
in bed, dreaming dreams for tomorrow
and giving the vassal we call a body, a rest.
As curious as a phantom cat,
I hid in the deepest parts of the museum,
eager to see a superstition come true;
yes, an old superstition.
It was said that the museum was haunted,
with curses carried from Pharaohs' Valley
of the Dead to New York City.
At twenty minutes past three, I heard
whispers and soft footsteps - they were
coming from an art gallery's section.
Curiosity got the best hold of me,
and suddenly I found myself
at the door transfixed! People from different
time periods of history were crawling
out from their paintings-they didn't walk like zombies;
they walked normally like you and me.
All they talked about was happiness themed;
they talked as though it was day.
I remember how I couldn't feel my legs or face,
as I watched the scene.
From then on, I got goose bumps
whenever I sat at a coffee shop, visited a friend,
or attended an auction with paintings....
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