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Ghosts

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They are brother and sister,
pale and yellow,
like ghosts.
Bright clothes hand off their skin.
She stares at me
as I stare at her,
wondering
why they are here.
They’re not fast,
or very strong,
and they can’t even jump high.
I leave,
but I still think about
the ghosts.



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distant_dreamer said...
Jul. 29, 2009 at 8:07 pm:
Cool poem!!!! Love it all!
 
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