Ruin
When sleep won't come
the ghosts appear,
they never left
just disappeared
for too short a time.
I remember the old days
when you were mine.
What fun we had,
crazy mad,
and glad
to be alive.
The goodness died.
The fabulous faded
into jaded memories,
tarnished stories,
errors too loud to quiet
in the night.
The ghosts walk
so tall,
so proud,
and we march with them to ruin
© 2020 Tale Teller Club
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