Ghosts

It's almost Halloween, how appropriate

That I should be haunted now,

By things I do not know,

And things I cannot see.

 

A tinted window;

I can see everything,

But you don't even know I'm here,

But I am! And all for you!

 

It's almost Halloween, how ironic,

There will ne no talk of ghosts.

Just subtle haunting,

And pumpkin carving.

 

These links are self-made,

Deep in my subconscious,

There must then be something there,

Behind a tinted window.

 

It's almost Halloween, how poetic-

This spider's web of lies.

Forty pounds and a pointless facade,

Tangled up inside.