Ghost Town

My life is a ghost town.

Hope long since packed its bags and deserted,

leaving behind the weight of potential unrealized.

 .

I sit in a saloon filled with why’s

slowly losing my grip on the lies,

succumbing to verity

in all its severity

while ghosts of relationships have me caught,

demanding me to be all the things that I’m not.

 .

The well of emotion is dry,

as cold and empty as I;

these regrets replaced by wondering

what the hell has been happening

in this place I thought would be my life

but turned out to be just trouble and strife.

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1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “Ghost Town

  1. Good poem – I can relate.
    Makes me think of the song Ghost Town by the Specials.

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