The image haunts my mind.
A smiling face from beyond the grave.
Why must I see it from the corner of my eye?
Always there, making me take a second glance,
and I see nothing then.
My dreams are feverish and I awake with a start.
Last whisper of my name ringing in my ears.
the same face smiling from the picture frame,
Before the sadness.
What a trip it has been from there,
And a long road lies ahead
I'll walk it,
but not alone.
I have my ghosts to keep me company.