Fading in


 

It is only the ghosts that hide in towers and
flap the sails,
through these railings
I still see
the ghost of who
I used to be.

In these towers in the town where everything is coloured damp,
lamps are lit and light flits nervously,
I still see
the ghost of who
I used to be.

The towers,
phallic symbols of a modern age where teenagers came of age,in an age where every turn they make,makes them rant and rage against authority and
I still see the ghost of who
I used to be.

No ghost escapes
just waits for their
dessert,
slurping up the anger,hurt,becoming stronger in
the long term memory and
I can see what has
become of me.

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