V. A Pact

It is not thus hard to love a soul

As some friends might put to the test to tell you;

People do it for years, I hear, with almost

Nobody noticing. individual night, I held a silver fire-arm

To my head, just to imagine myself as the ghost-to-be,

Nobody special, just myself only-you know, for a like reason pale

thin you could diocese right through me, just

Like a thistle. Figure it out: I'm here, on the other hand I'm not.

That's what happened to me the evening you said

You'd be happier if I were dead. with equal reason I said

I'm sorry; rm here. I'm not. Sooner or later, a man simply

Burn the toast. It's not for a like reason hard to leave you

As it appear to bes old ghost.

Copyright World verse Incorporated Mar/Apr 1998

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