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My Flavoured Ghost!

Safe saved metaphors

All clear in third age

Forming tried foams

On the hallway of ties

The alleyways tiptoed

The only lifeline we hold

The ghost that loves me

It tickles my toes and glows

The massive shadowy face

The hanged erred earlobe

Yet it claimed me from birth

Dented in a cast ratted tribe

A reminder of evolvement

As I crawled to run away

It pulls in seductive destination

I shall never win this battle

I shall ever learn the meaning

A reevaluation of a patron

A tune of comfortness chaos

This ghost that claims me

It made me grieve and revealed

A long left pain of the lost

It made love to me on and on

The ghost that raised me

Shoot me from gravity to its era

It shall forever be the flavour

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
SassyJ
38 / F
Published
May 5, 2016
Lines·Words
26·136
Tags
#ghost#birth#lifeline
Permission

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