why dont you leave

some people have friendly ghosts I scoff at them they have no idea what a real ghost is my ghost flits in and out of rooms giving me glimpses of dashes and darts startling me with creepy whispers next to my ear my ghost slams the kitchen cupboards in anger my ghost is a Victorian lady, someone says she is prim and proper, dressed In white lace my ghost is a poltergeist; throwing things at my head smashing my mirror into the sink when I floss others try to tell me about their lovely ghosts their loving ghosts, their protective ghosts I hope to get out of this house alive but am unsure if it is a possibility at this time my poltergeist is angry, and strong and determined to kill me why don’t you leave? People ask me I have no place to go My money has gone into this house I am stuck “You sure are” a voice whispers next to my ear.