Life Becomes Comparable to the Alamo

we are all surrounded by the ghosts that haunt us.  those ghosts from our past, from our present and future.

these ghosts torment us, telling us how we are no good, how we always fail.

what does it take to push such forces back?  God only knows and He at times seems to busy to bother.

so for now these ghosts shall stay in their new shelter, kept dry from the elements.

oh ghosts may ye rest well.

may ye find some dark and empty shell

may ye swallow up all that is light and good. 

may ye shrivel up and die.

our ghosts follow us, as if they were jealous of our shadows so they took their place.

if you see me, then you will see my ghosts at my tail.

i am on my own now, just me defending myself against the ghosts

as if I’m the last alive in the Alamo, just minutes before I die.

and my musket misfires, and Crockett has already passed on.

oh ghosts, ye masters of the unknown

oh ghosts, ye have the best of me

oh ghosts, ye have sucked my spirit dry

oh ghosts, ye must leave me my faith

oh ghosts, ye can least give me that.

for all that i’ve done for you ghosts. 

it’s the least you can do.

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One Response to “Life Becomes Comparable to the Alamo”

  1. Sophia Says:

    Before I looked at your site, I KNEW I’d find an Alamo-inspired poem! Nice metaphore, by the way. I particularly like this line, “our ghosts follow us, as if they were jealous of our shadows so they took their place.” That’s a great analogy.

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