Sometimes She Would See His Face

Sadness, alone, lonely

 

She looked at his picture

hanging on the wall,

and smiled at the memories,

she smiled at them all,

though he died two years ago,

she really found it difficult let go,

his death truly sadden her.

At first it was terrifying being alone,

she would hear sufferings, groans, and moans.

She would fix herself sweet tea with lemon,

to help calm her nerves, a hot cup,

to pick her up,

sometimes she would see his face,

out of reach,

but in her sight,

this happens during the evening and late at night.

She thought back nine years on the day she died,

the memories stunk,

and she simply cried,

he was hauled into jail with blood on his hands,

and on a pair of cutting shears,

his murder brought in a circus atmosphere,

too many witnesses with their story to tell,

about a loving husband who became that man from hell,

but he murdered me for no reason at all,

it seems when demons fall, he took the call,

and even though I enjoy haunting this room the most,

I sometimes wonder, why I’m the ghost.