In the dead of the night, he waited

Like death and fog, he crept

Into the dreams of little children

Dozing off, dreaming of days to come soon

He whispered in their ears

Released spiders in their hair

Kissed them all with poison

In the hopes that they would join him

As those inky black kisses

Sunk beneath their foreheads

They rose up, unattached

Floating and wailing

Screaming and crying

The children at the orphanage wept

Now they all were dead!

All but one, small little boy

He was spared

But no one knows why

He woke up with everyone walking through him

Not even a ghost, and he couldn’t pick anything up

The children would talk amongst each other, but not to he

It was like they couldn’t see him

But he knew that they could

For he could see them!

They spoke of him like he was not around

But there he was! Trying to make a sound!

He shouted and cried

Finally a lightbulb flickered

But they all just said:

“It needs a new fixture”

Then one day

As he settled down, and watched other kids play

He saw a man, walk up next to him

The man held out his pale, white hand

The little boy looked at him and said

“They are all dead, but they do not see me”

The man sadly smiled as the boy took his hand

“Therein lies the sad truth, see

The only ones who are dead

Are you and me”.


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