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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Every person has a ghost. This poem is about mine. While I miss this particular ghost, I know that there is little left to solidify my faith in the situation. It's just another story of life. (I know this is a lot of things to publish in a day, please bear with me!)

Submitted: November 27, 2006

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Submitted: November 27, 2006



What drive a person to miss someone?
I've no answer to give,
Though I know too well
That you dropped poison
On your lips,
Because it's you I taste and smell.
Your face jumps out at me
In the rain,
Your voice speaks in the most random
Of places.
You said it was over
Half a year ago,
Yet I wish this was one of those exceptional cases.
I can't look at a sunset
Without remembering
That shade of blue was your favorite color.
Though I wish it were true,
I've little desire
To try my fate with any other.
But if you were
To reappear,
Would I be able to stare you in the face?
This time, I know
What answer to give--
Long ago, we had our fall from grace.

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