Poetry Collection

Ghost

I do not understand why people fear me

I am not scary at least I do not think I am

Staring into the dark murky sea

Questions start to swarm.

Clouding my mind,

I lowered my eyes to the ground and sighed.

My hands went to pick up a pebble

But I was having trouble.

The stone fell through my palm

I tried to stay calm

Yet I screamed in frustration

I stuffed my hand in my pocket to keep it hidden.

Why does the world hate me!

I said dryly.

Turning around to the gatepost

As I floated past a lamppost.

Back so soon?

A child seemed to ask, glancing at the moon.

I stopped and stared at her

She waited for an answer.

Something shined over me casting a silhouette

The child looked upset.

Why won't you talk?

She handed me a piece of a chalk.

As if she was saying goodbye

She turned and walked away and began to cry.

I wish I new this firsthand

Eyeing the object in my left-hand.

Why does she not fear me?

I whispered sounding like a zombie.

I went home, setting the object on the shelve

Just as the clock stroke twelve.

Glancing out the window at the scene.

Midnight has came, to end Halloween.