Ghosts, Vein In Life Poem by chris bowen

cracked mirror and a feast of eyes.breathe to me, simply imply that your alive.we dont want to die for you, magic voodoo.we dont want our lives cut in two, like you do.we remove a head for the simplest thought, the head is now dead with a body caught.love ought not to happen, all the street ones are laughin, another human, doin, what he ought not, givin love and all hes got, to a ghost, who he knew the most, from a prose, or a story of i told you so.