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Ghosts
I walk around a quiet house.
Nobody else is home, but I am not alone,
for trailing my footsteps is the ghost
of a man i should have been able to know
but never got to.
Robbed of life in these very halls I tread-
lived his life, and then he was dead.
His ghost follows me wherever I go-
shadow trails behind,
Watching
Waiting-
I wonder what he would think of the life I lead.
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I like to tell people that someone's died in my house- they always freak out. Always funny.