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WHO’S THERE?
 
For years, no one had lived there
In that house three stories tall.
It covered at least an acre with
Its’ this and that way, random sprawl.

Windows had been breached
And some wings toured by teenagers
But, few managed to venture far
As would have been their true natures.

A tapping where it shouldn’t be,
A sound as whispered near their neck
Caused them to feel too uneasy,
Always looking back and forth to check.

It was rumored that some ghosts
Had staked a claim as their compound.
Some said poaching basement bums
Made odd sounds to confound.

Why, for fifty years, it went unsold
Baffled those who even tried to guess.
Still, those few who had entered
Claimed ghostly presence nonetheless.

In truth, ‘twas blowing shutters in the breeze
With broken window drafts drifting by.
But, if it scares intruders, that is fine.
It’s only me and my friend souls that occupy.

By The_Pip

© 2017 The_Pip (All rights reserved)

 

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