Talk to me, tell me your name
Person of mystery, puzzlement, perhaps shame.
Why do you hide?
Come on what's your name?
Standing there all alone, oh, so forlorn.
Where have you come from, person of mystery?
Standing there in that corner so, so alone.
I was once asked to go and investigate a 'haunting problem'. I walked into a room that felt cold of which the feeling felt stronger from behind. I turned round and to the left of me in a corner stood a very sad looking man. He was tall with short dark hair and wore an outfit worn in operating theatres. From the colour of the outfit I knew he must have worked there quite a number of years ago. He didn't talk. He just stood looking very sad.
YOU ARE READING
I'm Here My Love
PoetryDeath may stop us from seeing but does it really separate us? A collection of poems based on ghostly experiences .......
