He died a sad death.
But he kept coming
around.
He would not stay under
the hard ground.
He would not leave me
alone.
Everywhere I heard his
pathetic moan.
Everywhere I seen his
hopeless face.
Even after I put away my
black lace.
Up to Heaven I hoped he
would go
even though down below
is the place
I thought he ought to
patrol.
But, alas, to neither did he float.
Preferring to haunt me
and
gleefully gloat.
Late in the night.
Early in the day.
Him always there.
Never going away.
What a fright.
Dead eyes
watching me
in the night.
Never alone
but, oh, so lonely.
A dead man I could see
but
could no longer
caress slowly.
A dark shadow of a man
that was no longer real.
Like a deep cut that refuses
to heal.
He alone was dead.
But
he alone was in my head.
I shut my eyes tight.
I fought him with all
my might.
He wanted me to cry
all through the night.
Pleasure he got out of
twisting the knife.
Misery craving friends.
He could not
understand
that his death was the end.
Still he is there
but
I no longer care.
I ignore his stare.
And smile through the night.
I have gotten over
my fright.
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