Meeting With The Ghost

tremble with laughter, thou
nervous yet! so happy as the feet and hands
full of sweat engulf the whole flesh

the day is over and the night is too close
the humid feeling adds the color of the night
kept disgusted my waiting the call to take a rest

seems melted like candle, light keeps on
waving until the door close with the cool breeze
touches my skin

something gone in I and something tip toe
my hair, urged to shout for the night talk in my
brain, I hold my hands so tight and whisper to
my little angel to close the door

the clock showers my mess...

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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