Jun 27

My Ghosts

My ghosts try to speak,
With wails and whines,
With pencils and paper,
They write words down in lines,
They shriek when I take it,
And burn it to ash,
As they watch all their hope,
Take off and then crash.

My ghosts try to run,
They pull and they strain,
But I keep the leash taut,
So they stay in my brain.

My ghosts beg for mercy,
They ask to be freed,
They scream for forgiveness,
Until their throats bleed,
But I keep them trapped,
Ignoring their calls,
I’ll stay strong and keep holding them,
No matter the cost.

My ghosts were once part of me,
They laughed and they cried,
They danced to sweet music,
Until they all died,
Now all I can feel,
Is them clawing within,
Trapped deep inside me,
My own inner prison.