The ghosts

He was pointing to the ghosts

They were swarming around

One was looking down on him

It was stooped over

They followed him everywhere

He would talk to them

They were unruly

Always ready for trouble

He didn’t have any friends

At least not real ones

He was always in company


They were hard to control

Ghosts always played up

They would look everywhere

He tried to shoo them away

His voice was soft

He leered at one

He pointed

Then swiped the air

The ghosts never listened

They would bother him

They ridiculed

He was followed

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