Real Illusions Poem by Michael DawesSmith

A ghost popped up
One quiet night at home
And asked me 'What are you doing here? '
'Not much' I replied 'It's no business of yours
I've paid up my rent..my conscience is clear'

'Brick upon brick
I built this myself' he said
I'd appreciate you bear that in mind'
But he'd no sooner spoke when he looked over his shoulder
At a ghost that appeared from behind

'A curse on you spirit'
It said to the first
'You built this but knocked mine down to rubble
And I haven't forgotten and I haven't forgiven
So talk to me if you're looking for trouble! '

I was a little unnerved
But not that suprised
As an apparition brandished a spear
He said 'You're all ghosts haunting my land
You're spiritual vandals.You're breeders of fear! '

They argied they bargied
They cursed and they swore
And I sat down to ponder my role
Feeling as low as Satan's cellar
Wishing a ghost would just swallow us whole

I wandered outside
To breath some clear air
When I returned they'd reached no conclusion
I told them 'Get out'.Turned on the TV
And returned to my own real illusion