deepundergroundpoetry.com
TAG, YOU'RE IT! _ with "Vision_of_insanity"
They played a fierce game of tag all of their lives
From as far back to childhood through to their later years in life
Tag you're it
Now, tag you're it!
The game was harmless, but both were eager to tag the other throughout their lives
Even when they were married & had families, the game went on
One of them fell ill a few years back
Even so, wheelchair bound and sick, he would tag his friend gleefully, like he did for over 70 years
His friend was saddened but thought he'd bounce back
He never did
While in the hospital on his deathbed, he laid there sending his farewell goodbyes to his family & his friends family
When his friend was in the room alone to say his goodbyes, he broke down and began to cry
His friend dying said, "Please, Please, no tears"
He asked for him to come closer
He did
When his dying friend whispered into his ear
His final words to him were...
TAG YOU'RE IT!
His eyes rolled back and his friend died
The game was over
His friend that died, won
That, until his ghost returned from the grave to haunt him at night
Exactly at 3 a.m., he would feel a faint touch creeping onto his shoulder
An ominous laugh echoed through the walls
And it’s then, that he froze, goosebumps rising on his arms
As a low voice hummed, “Wanna play another round, friend?”
He knew that cocky tone too well to not recognize it
He smiled, turning his face, tears threatening to spill at the thought of seeing his friend again
Yet what he saw was a nightmare
A shadow of what cheerful features once looked like
A scream emerged from his throat as he rushed out in fright
Rumbles mixed with sobs echoed throughout the house
“I missed playing with you”
“Why are you running away from me?”
“It’s me”
An icy grip coiled around his ankle, yanking him to the ground
His friend’s ghost loomed above him
“Gotcha. tag, you're it!”
Just as he tried to tag him back, reaching his hand toward his friend’s figure
The clock struck and he opened his eyes to greet the dim room, his forehead beaded with sweat
The game isn’t over...
From as far back to childhood through to their later years in life
Tag you're it
Now, tag you're it!
The game was harmless, but both were eager to tag the other throughout their lives
Even when they were married & had families, the game went on
One of them fell ill a few years back
Even so, wheelchair bound and sick, he would tag his friend gleefully, like he did for over 70 years
His friend was saddened but thought he'd bounce back
He never did
While in the hospital on his deathbed, he laid there sending his farewell goodbyes to his family & his friends family
When his friend was in the room alone to say his goodbyes, he broke down and began to cry
His friend dying said, "Please, Please, no tears"
He asked for him to come closer
He did
When his dying friend whispered into his ear
His final words to him were...
TAG YOU'RE IT!
His eyes rolled back and his friend died
The game was over
His friend that died, won
That, until his ghost returned from the grave to haunt him at night
Exactly at 3 a.m., he would feel a faint touch creeping onto his shoulder
An ominous laugh echoed through the walls
And it’s then, that he froze, goosebumps rising on his arms
As a low voice hummed, “Wanna play another round, friend?”
He knew that cocky tone too well to not recognize it
He smiled, turning his face, tears threatening to spill at the thought of seeing his friend again
Yet what he saw was a nightmare
A shadow of what cheerful features once looked like
A scream emerged from his throat as he rushed out in fright
Rumbles mixed with sobs echoed throughout the house
“I missed playing with you”
“Why are you running away from me?”
“It’s me”
An icy grip coiled around his ankle, yanking him to the ground
His friend’s ghost loomed above him
“Gotcha. tag, you're it!”
Just as he tried to tag him back, reaching his hand toward his friend’s figure
The clock struck and he opened his eyes to greet the dim room, his forehead beaded with sweat
The game isn’t over...
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