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October 31, 2008 by · 7 comments

Ivor Hogg

Photo: peasap

The veils grow thin on all souls eve
and vengeful ghosts are free to leave.
The kingdom of eternal night
to seek revenge and vent their spite.

On erst while relatives and friends,
Who have not tried to make amends.
Insults offered before they died
long brooded on and magnified.

Although you may not be aware
you were the cause if their despair.
To them it makes no difference
because they chose to take offence.

At something which you did or said.
For this night only they can tread
amongst the living once again
They are intent on casing pain.

Some call it superstition.
Not me I keep an open mind
It is an old tradition
although it is not well defined,

Though when the veils are torn aside
to let the vengeful spirits through
I much prefer to stay inside,
It seems the wisest thing to do

I am afraid that’s why I hide
behind stout walls which can protect
and keep the wrathful ghosts outside
That way I show them some respect.

Categories: Frontpage · humor · poetry


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