(Poetry) Ghost
this is what happens when i listen to secret garden on loop and have writing urges but nothing to write about. i churn out more cheesy poetry. sigh.
Ghost
Sunrise once more
Golden rays hit the bed
An empty spot cold beside me
The imaginary figure leaves the room
Doesn't turn around
Breakfast set for two
The chair stands empty
The coffee turns cold
Nobody to laugh with at the news
Food turns to ashes
The breeze brushes over the trees
I hear voices in the rustling leaves
Whispered secrets and hidden fantasies
Unspoken dreams of long ago
They'll never come true
Moonlight floats gently over my skin
I close my eyes and for a moment
Ghostly fingers caressing my face
I dare to hope once more
But when I look...
You're not there
Ghost
Sunrise once more
Golden rays hit the bed
An empty spot cold beside me
The imaginary figure leaves the room
Doesn't turn around
Breakfast set for two
The chair stands empty
The coffee turns cold
Nobody to laugh with at the news
Food turns to ashes
The breeze brushes over the trees
I hear voices in the rustling leaves
Whispered secrets and hidden fantasies
Unspoken dreams of long ago
They'll never come true
Moonlight floats gently over my skin
I close my eyes and for a moment
Ghostly fingers caressing my face
I dare to hope once more
But when I look...
You're not there