GhostA Poem by Michael of Gilead
where do we all end up.............
Searching through a box full of ghosts
Looking for a life gone past
Sunny day memories, new cars, birthday’s
Briny vacations, waters fall
Black and white people
Gathered around picnic tables
Faces without names
Empty room, clock ticking
A black Hefty bag between my legs
Cufflinks, clothes, after shave
Leather pouch, socks
A watch with a broken band
Is this really where we all end?
© 2011 Michael of Gilead
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on February 2, 2011
Last Updated on February 2, 2011
People who liked this story also liked..