I do not believe in ghosts
But they are haunting me.
Not the ghosts of Christmas past,
Or present, or future.
But those that have been hurt by me,
And those who have hurt me.
I must live with them forever.
There are ghosts within my brain
I can see them
They look like antique memories,
But they are ghosts
I know it.
They are my ghosts
Put there by youth
Without knowing it.
I must offer up a poem
To my ghosts
but to do so
they must let go—
I must let them go
I must make them go
Such shades do not readily obey our wishes that they fade from mind, but they find it hard to abide when we lift the light of self examination, perhaps it hurts their eyes. That was a long way around to saying I appreciated this poem very much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Letting go...that's always the hardest part! Nicely done, keep up the great work...Jeff.