There is a spectre of a girl in grey,
That walks along a road at nights.
But disappears with the coming day,
And is never seen in the morning light.
A motorist she will flag down,
And asks to be taken to her home.
And before the cemetary, just outside of town,
From inside the car, she's suddenly gone.
She never makes it to her home,
The scene is repeated time and again,
And in the graveyard you'll see her tomb,
With her name now weathered by the rain.
Sometimes a momento is on her stone,
A glove, a handkerchief, sometimes a coat.
From the ones that tried to take her home,
And found she was just a wandering ghost.
6/12/10 29 palms ca.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem