Footsteps on,
the stairs.
Bathtub water,
boiling ho-ho-ho-ho- hot.
Half ate cake,
with sugary cookies.
Jangle up and down,
rocking chair.
There is someone in,
the getting on fort.
Hours of darkness
became the hours of hopeless.
The library books,
looked through
by the black phamtom.
Singing melody,
down the halls.
From where is it coming?
non other than the
getting on fort!
I am 13 now and from my childhood, i have heard that ghosts live in forts.
YOU ARE READING
Relax Zone
PoetryDifferent kind of poem to lighten up your mood. When the mind has gone through the stone hearts, in the middle of haze, eyes turned towards the words of peace to empathy. Highest Rank in #8 in wattyshort13 #32 in nervous #196 in watty #8 in variety ...
