The Ghost - Poem by Steve Armstrong
I sit and watch, in awe of you,
for you, you must be a creation of the Gods.
Your long, silken hair,
glistens in the silvery light of the moons night shadow,
And the light reflects off your flawless skin,
giving you an almost death like pallor.
Yet you are by no means to be compared to those departed
from this mortal coil,
For you my dear, are surely Aphrodite in mortal form,
such perfect beauty, I have ne’er seen.
Yet, you fail to notice me. Even though I call your name,
my words fall flat before your feet,
You look straight at me, but my gaze your eyes avert,
almost as though you see straight through it,
deep into the pit of my soul,
sensing my innermost thoughts and feelings.
But alas, I am wrong, and you are merely gazing at the moon,
as she paints her silver trail across the sky,
with the stars as her children,
dancing across the deep blue night.
And now I fade to a whisper,
a mere ghost, lost in the night forever.
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