If I were a wayward ghost

If I were a wayward ghost I'd love to haunt

Dark hillside homes, where I would flaunt

My spectral form clothed in funereal rags

Woven by three wizened, dreary hags


In the long dark watches of the night

I'd hover beneath the flickering light

Of the broken neon sign which swings

And sways in the wind like an angel's wings


I'd let the wind carry me and drift

Clouded mist in my ghostly shift

Over the heather on the moors

To softly call beneath the doors


Pale and endless I would creep

Through your houses while you sleep

So safely curled beneath the covers

Pressed close are these slumbering lovers


Near your warm cheeks by and by

I'd gently loose my desolate sigh

A moment's coldness is my breath

In life, the certainty of death


And if you listened you might hear

What made me so long linger near

For I am voyeuristically inclined

The roving shadow of a mind



















The End

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