Something about ghosts - Matt Elliott

I'm as lonely as a ghost as I sit down to write these

notes

To you and your intended, spring is the worst time for

most

Who've never reached the boundaries

Or heard the notes as they were sung


I believe this lonely ghost was forced to wander on until

By chance or fate was summoned

To call on you a service that he knew wouldn't be

answered

Less repaid with lust


But still your faded shadow was forced to look upon

Sights not even a ghost should have to see

And as he slumps so listed, he cannot bear to watch

And yet he cannot turn his gaze away and flee


This poor ghost can only howl, although his howls cannot

be heard

His cries will go unheeded

No one will ever read his words

And though he cannot weep, he sheds his tears through me




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