I saw her in the graveyard, I could barely see her feet.
I didn't see that they did touch the ground, I thought they didn't meet.
Her skin was pale, almost see-through,
Flowy hair with beads of dew,
Soon she passed the marking rock, the one that was engraved,
And when she left, finally, I thought I knew what I had braved.
And then, a week later, I saw her again,
Only this time she was near the River Bend.
She looked the same, hair askew,
She almost reflected the big sky blue,
And I thought, oh I thought, that she was a ghost,
A ghost that died near the River Bend coast.
And finally, there was the time that changed my belief,
She passed a boy with a gun, like Commander-in-chief.
He looked her in the eye.
Then she gave a cry.
And out of sheer fear, he pulled the trigger,
The bullet dug in, and what I felt was bigger
Bigger than the worst regret
Of not protecting her, like a net
Keeping from falling.
And then she was bawling
And he ran away,
Not knowing the murder he committed that day.
YOU ARE READING
I Thought She Was a Ghost
PoetryI had to write down my ideas, and it came in this poem. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.