Little Sad Ghost
There's a little sad ghost in my house
tonight
I saw him move softly down the
hall
To the room at the end where love lies
dead
And my lover lies there not at all.
I turn back the covers of my king
sized bed
And climb between the cold wintry sheets
Naked and alone I turn out the light
My pillow held tight in defeat.
Sleep eludes me through the night
And damp is the pillow where I cry
For the passion's death in my
bed
And the woman in me who died.
Poem by Jan
Copyright ~ 2003
