Ghost Writer
This old victorian mansion ~ has seen better days ...
It's windows have all been painted shut.
The doors creak and the floors are cracked ~
So many projects ...
I just don't know where to start.
~ ~ ~
I decided to take a break ~ and collect my thoughts ...
To escape the pain and loneliness.
It wasn't always like this ~
So run down and cold ...
It was once filled with much happiness.
~ ~ ~
I grabbed my whiskey and shot glass ~ stumbled down to the den ...
At my desk - I rummage through drawers.
Looking for my link to sanity ~
My only saving grace ...
This journal and quilled pen I adore.
~ ~ ~
I start to write down my story ~ the words begin to bleed ...
Trickling drops from my memory.
Haunted by ghosts of the past ~
Overcome by my grief ...
Demons come alive - awaiting release.
~ ~ ~
The day that you died still haunts me ~ it viciously attacks ...
This pain is just so agonizing.
Another shot - my head hits the desk ~
The darkness evolves ...
It consumes and surrounds me.
~ ~ ~
The visions I see torment me ~ broken glass and blood ...
Dripping from the bedroom balcony.
You escaped the demons by running ~
Crashing through glass doors ..
Falling to your death in front of me.
~ ~ ~
Your escape has held me captive ~ forever lost in grief ...
There is nothing I can do but die.
I have no other reason to live~
Nothing more to give ...
Your death has taken away my life.
~ ~ ~
I woke up from the sunlight ~ shining in my eyes ...
To read the words that were before me.
The ink looked like dried blood drops ~
In writing not my own ...
It read - "Please love, Please forgive me"
~ ~ ~
This old victorian mansion ~
has seen better days ...
KjK031410
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.