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The Ghost
So I do this,
As the hair stands,
On the back of my neck.
I’m scared,
I’m shivering,
And my mind’s a wreck.
I think it’s because,
I’ve never felt,
Like this before.
I see that shadow,
Of that ghost,
And now I’m sure.
People say,
They don’t believe,
In this.
But I do,
Because it fills me up,
With bliss.
It gives me,
Something to,
Believe in.
Since when,
Is believing,
A sin?
I want to feel,
Like this,
Forever.
The human race and them,
We’re again one,
Together.
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