A knife in the back.
Maybe a gun, drugs or
Alcohol have taken them
from life. Or,
in a house
having dinner with a smile on
their face.
On a road, driving south�
Going as far as they can.
The pressure or stress. Maybe
Memories or feelings better
Left in the past.
Why they left,
Where they've gone;
If they're dead
No one knows.
There will be tears.
There will be pain,
But gradually they'll die.
Life will go on and
They'll be buried deep in
Dark hearts.
Sometime down the years,
On a foggy night;
A ghost may come back
And then answers�
May come.
© by ~Lee-Anne Peters~
![]() |