(20 minute poetry)

I see it for some time and then it fades away
On a bad day it might stay with me a little longer

Hunger is the thing or so they say to get you moving
I heed no adage having
heard them all before
not one of them changed a thing for me
the ghost is always at the door
but then it fades
or is it me that disappears?

At other turns of time there's a rhyme for most occasions
and on occasion occasionally I find in there a rhyme
lots of time for that to be
an occasion
occasionally.

He
with the hooded eyes and eagles claw
is he one more ghost come to knock upon my door?

It doesn't bother me

a
comfort and a lover
she
is all and more
and keeps me
far away
from the
ghosts
that knock upon my door.

I **** alas spasmodically
the shivers really get to me
she's there
by my side
with her hand in mine
and my hand is the hand
of time
that drew the line
that stopped the clock
the hand that made the rhythm
rock,

the ghosts still knock.

I know it's sometimes better the devil I know
but I really don't know him at all.