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Ghosts of the Past
November 30, 2013
All the voices in my head
They are all dead.
And I can hear them scream,
To why do they scream in pain?
All the voices in my head
All of them are dead.
The sreaks
of pain,
Are all
Insane.
I cant take much more.
They call out to me
They call out to me.
Their voices are like whispers in the dark,
And their touch is like raggedy silk.
Their eyes are deep dark holes,
On their skin is rough with moles.
Their the ghosts of our past.
They come at night
Don't put up a fight.
They will take you away
Far far away.
© Laura D., Phoenix, AZ
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