Cemeteries are full of unfulfilled dreams.. Countless echoes of 'could have' and 'should have' countless books unwritten countless songs unsung.. I want to live my life in such a way that when my body is laid to rest, it will be a well needed rest from a life well lived, a song well sung, a book well written, opportunities well explored, and a love well expressed.
Could it be that this house is haunted?I'm face to face with shapeless shadow, Though I stand alone. Could it be that there's a presenceInside this house, Besides my own?The garden fades from green to grey, The fading focus of Goodbye.I let out a sigh.I swallow the urge to cry. Out of this house and onto the street.. Vacant, empty spaces in the faces I meet. Anywhere on earth, Any time of day, The echoed sound of all I say, Of all I hear and in all I see.. Shadows, Phantom faces, Not haunting places. Haunting ME.