Ghosts are the past.
Their previous lives enacted,
for the benefit of believers.
Or through deceivers who narrate
stories of previous indiscretions,
through the medium of possessions
passed along a line of hopefuls.
A night time arrangement
of relatives who are ancient yet move
with great stealth and speed.
They come back to haunt us
or taunt us with things that they move
like a book that you swear was there.
Most are grey ladies who walk
around in spaces which creak and
groan as the night sets in.
They make no sound
they just hang around for years,
and they never tell us why.
Every ghost will scare you, even
those who swear your secret will be safe
with them. But the lie comes back to
taint you, just as people start to paint you
as somebody to be trusted and believed.
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