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That song! That haunting song! At twenty years of age, Off his bed he rose And to his window he went There she was, seated in the swing And singing to herself her lullaby. It was always her favourite. She lifted her blank eyes and held his Those eyes sent shivers down his spine. A ghost she was, Why wouldn't she leave him be? Yes, responsible for her death he was But that was three years ago. At thirty four, even after marraige With three beautiful kids, She still wouldn't leave that swing Or put a stop to that **** song He alone heard her He told no one else about this ghost But wanted nothing to do with her. At fifty, she was still at the swing Singing and swaying in the swing She still looked sixteen, But he looked frail. He had tried to tell her off But not a single word would she utter to him. It was a **** gone wrong A girlfriend in highschool, Who had been adamant to give away her virtue. And the overdose had killed her. At seventy, an heart attack he had, Right in the yard. He couldn't breathe And he couldn't cry for help. At the brink of death, she finally left her perch And floated to his dying body. Only a sentence she whispered, And it was colder than death itself. You were always my first love
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Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 10:35 AM UTC
Ghost on the Swing
That song! That haunting song! At twenty years of age, Off his bed he rose And to his window he went There she was, seated in the swing And singing to herself her lullaby. It was always her favourite. She lifted her blank eyes and held his Those eyes sent shivers down his spine. A ghost she was, Why wouldn't she leave him be? Yes, responsible for her death he was But that was three years ago. At thirty four, even after marraige With three beautiful kids, She still wouldn't leave that swing Or put a stop to that **** song He alone heard her He told no one else about this ghost But wanted nothing to do with her. At fifty, she was still at the swing Singing and swaying in the swing She still looked sixteen, But he looked frail. He had tried to tell her off But not a single word would she utter to him. It was a **** gone wrong A girlfriend in highschool, Who had been adamant to give away her virtue. And the overdose had killed her. At seventy, an heart attack he had, Right in the yard. He couldn't breathe And he couldn't cry for help. At the brink of death, she finally left her perch And floated to his dying body. Only a sentence she whispered, And it was colder than death itself. You were always my first love
angelique-esmeralda
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Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 10:35 AM UTC
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