Poltergeist

He sits on the chair now broken,

He resides in the attic now taken.

His clothes have more holes than cloth,

His only companion is a sloth.

He is very quiet and reclusive

His mind is tired and elusive.

He sits and ponders about his life,

He sits and ponders about his strifes.

He canโ€™t eat or drink or sleep or die,

He is a poltergeist, and thatโ€™s not a lie.

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30 Comments

  1. Hmmm…If I could wave a magic wand….or be Queen for a Day….better even, God….which I cannot do or be…. Thank you, dear Isah, for sharing the shadows of your life. So distinctly you and not you, all at the same time. Don’t let them eat your voice alive.

    Liked by 4 people

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