Poems I Wrote For No Reason

Ghost

White things are following me.

No one else,

but just me.

Both day and night.

Even though I can't use my sight,

they are still there,

day and night.

I call them ghost,

I might not see them.

But it might just be my sight, 

or is it the ghost that took my sight?

These white things are following me

both day and night.

And I know they took my sight.