The radio booms on speakers
it’s enough to wake the dead
zombies re attach their heads
ghosts clammer for attention.
What’s this dissenting dismal story
breaking from the ordinary
it must be the radio news.
This towns a ghost town and we are out of sight
dead ravens take flight
like they have been reanimated by Edgar Allen Poe
the word nevermore repeated.
Disco lights dance in the dusty ghostly radio station studio
the presenter moves his skeletal hand
and slides the controls to the peak setting.
his voice a long forgotten recording
playing jingles old songs and adverts
for a town where no one is around…
Rain falling on the decomposing leaves
cold autumn air breathed in warm lungs
the wind blows muttering ghost stories
into our ears.
Pumpkins carved into wickedly twisted smiles
we dress up for Halloween discos and parties with style
gathering sweets as we go
while the full moon glows
Bonfires built as we wait for the 5th of November
when fireworks will explode and sparkle in the night sky
we remember the gun powder plot
as we toast marshmallows on the bonfire.
You can’t see me
hear me breathing
Light flickers, its deceiving.
I sit in the corner of the room
this is where I live, my tomb
see it all ended years ago
though I haven’t got the courage to leave
Sometimes the inhabitants of this house
can see me in the corner of their eye
But not every dead person can just die
I can’t leave my daughters here alone
So I live on a half painted shadow in a ghostly home.