My Ghost

And when he wakes up, he wakes up sleeping;
His lips are moving, he's hardly speaking.
But when he laughs, he always chokes;
And when he's raised, he'll rise in smoke.

And when he climbs, it's up the walls;
He stretches at least ten feet tall.
I think it's strange, he's quite amused;
That horror could become my muse.

He looks down with a spiteful boast:
"As if you've never seen a ghost!"
I have, they're known for giving love
To all the ones it hurts the most.

Disrupted spirit in my room;
A fugitive that left his tomb.
He's mastered haunting with an art;
An eye that twinkles in the dark.

And in the night, my bed is ill;
I have these loads of time to kill.
But when I wake up, I wake up sleeping;
My lips are moving, I'm hardly speaking.

And when I laugh, I always choke;
But when I'm scared- it's just my ghost.