there's a ghost in the window
There's a ghost in the window, in the mirror down the hall. The recall has no reasons, the ghost likes them all. The terror’s in the teardrop, when the fall is not so fine. Yet listen, there's a fear way and the ghost will say, “It's Mine!”. Then past the ancient wall clock, the tick-tock takes a hold. The ghosts likes the seasons, yet it’s never growing old. Then “hear that?” hears no footsteps past the mirror looking mean. Yet, there is one who over time tells of two or three past in- between. The doors slam for no reason and the end is never near. Like tall tales, the ghost has bells and rings the phone with an “Oh dear!” Then “See that?” says “It's gone now!” and the ghost just wears a smile. Like “Come back and I'll be here!”, always in a little while. So “Bye now!” we're all leaving and the ghost just hides on cue. It likes the hallways, where the picture frames are few. There's a ghost in the mirror, never clearer when in sight. The ghost will say “That's Easy!”, just so friendly and It’s right. There’s a ghost in the window, in the mirror down the hall.
Copyright © Alex Nelson | Year Posted 2020
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