The Past Rots On

The ghosts come back to haunt me

But the ghosts, they do not want me

They're just memories that refuse to fade

And throw sunny dispositions back into the shade

Leeches that stick fast to your skin

And your tears at night are their cause for grin

Stimulation for the demons that reside inside

All the pent up rage that I've tried to hide

No, the ghost do not want "me"

Reviews

[Plume de flamme]

This a frightening write, really scary. Well-penned.

[Baby Ricochet]

They want me. Not yours, mine

[Missphit]

Very intriguing piece and leeches always creep me out ever since Stand By Me so I got jitters with that line. I like this poem very much and how you are so insistent that they don't want you. I love it!