deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ghost
I'm a ghost,
nowhere to be,
nowhere to go.
I'm a ghost,
have no real job to go to,
in no hurry,
have no boyfriend to love,
so no worries.
I'm just a ghost.
I'm a ghost,
a loner who may have had it a little too rough,
a writer who writes about it being a little too rough.
I'm a ghost.
Don't know much about the outside world,
just know about my inner world.
No one stays for too long.
No one can really touch me.
I'm a ghost,
with unlimited amount of space to create,
with unlimited amount of time to waste.
I'm just a ghost.
(No one can really see me)
But I can see them,
with a family of their own,
with their dream 9 to 5,
with their husbands, wives,
while I live here
in a house pretty much alone,
with the dead artist's dream,
no husband or kids to call my own
(But damn, I hate kids though)
(And damn do I love my space)
I'm a ghost,
I'm a ghost,
I'm a damn ghost.
Can I really call my life a life
when all I have done is lurk within the shadows?
When the real world does not interest me in the slightest?
On Earth,
I roam for all my days.
No Heaven or Hell.
Just a ghost
without a body to claim my own.
Just roaming,
observing.
Without really being there.
I'm a ghost,
nowhere to be,
nowhere to go.
No place to call home.
nowhere to be,
nowhere to go.
I'm a ghost,
have no real job to go to,
in no hurry,
have no boyfriend to love,
so no worries.
I'm just a ghost.
I'm a ghost,
a loner who may have had it a little too rough,
a writer who writes about it being a little too rough.
I'm a ghost.
Don't know much about the outside world,
just know about my inner world.
No one stays for too long.
No one can really touch me.
I'm a ghost,
with unlimited amount of space to create,
with unlimited amount of time to waste.
I'm just a ghost.
(No one can really see me)
But I can see them,
with a family of their own,
with their dream 9 to 5,
with their husbands, wives,
while I live here
in a house pretty much alone,
with the dead artist's dream,
no husband or kids to call my own
(But damn, I hate kids though)
(And damn do I love my space)
I'm a ghost,
I'm a ghost,
I'm a damn ghost.
Can I really call my life a life
when all I have done is lurk within the shadows?
When the real world does not interest me in the slightest?
On Earth,
I roam for all my days.
No Heaven or Hell.
Just a ghost
without a body to claim my own.
Just roaming,
observing.
Without really being there.
I'm a ghost,
nowhere to be,
nowhere to go.
No place to call home.
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