Ghosts

Ghosts from my path beckon at me from a window,
They’ve written songs, we have sung in the past.
Simpler were times when I did not comprehend,
By the time my sight focused, they vanished again.

Experiences a many have passed since then,
And the specters they beckon at me again,
I cannot lay the blame to them for a friend,
For a friend has cost them the other’s end.

As I went up the staircase the thought wavered
Through my mind: I used to see you everyday
And I have not seen you in over three blue moons.
How many forests have fallen and risen since then?

Words read, words heard, words have changed you.
Cease, rest your gesturing, the judgment is firm,
You knew the problem and chose to support it
Becoming the very thing you most dreaded.

Alan Valle

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