Ghosts

In this quiet room,
tremendous piles of
papers and books
take full priority
over such things as
capricious memories;
loving pictures hung
to immortalize
the Ghosts from my past.

Above each picture
rests a rusting bell,
used to signal dead-
ringers from their graves.
Woefully, as days pass
the tacit bells prove
my graveyard shift
to be as extant as
the Ghosts' return.

Lonely days pass
as more work ensues.
The monotonous clock
ticks gravely on my desk,
loosening my already
weak grip on reality.
Perhaps it's time
to slip away, fade,
and become one with
the Ghosts from my past.

Responses

2 comments so far.

1. Lizz C says:

   I love this poem. Very nice imagery and rhythm (it was nice to read out loud). Needless to say, you have a way with words. Great job :)

2. Cameron Leon says:

   For the record.. I just started college and I have a desk compiled mostly of already towering school papers and a wall full of pictures. The "Ghosts" symbolize my friends who have moved on without me to pursue their college careers, and for me to slip away and "become one with the Ghosts from my past" would represent that I, too, have moved on from past memories to pursue my own personal goals through the duration of college.