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 can’t eat or drink or sleep or die,
He is a poltergeist, and that’s not a lie.
lightsleeperbutheavydreamer 
Reminds me of peeves from the HP series
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I like the eerie atmosphere of this poem!
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Hi.. Hrishikesh here
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Thank you for liking my post
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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.
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Thank you very much!
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Loved this, so clever! nice to meet you and thank you for following my blog!
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Thank you!
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beautiful poem❤️
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you are kindly welcome🙏
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Thank you very much!
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😇
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Heavy dream 😇
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Pleasure Isha
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Indeed, thank you for reading!
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What beautiful poems you write!
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Thank you!
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Perhaps we’re all poltergeists?
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Perhaps! Thank you for reading!
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Lol–“His only companion is a sloth” 😀
Nice how you combine tongue-in-cheek verses with an eerie feeing!
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Thank you! 🙂
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Cleverly written!
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Thank you!
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