I saw the girl with the feather in her hat
In my darkest hour
But I was sinking fast.
And nobody was going to take me home
She walked down the hall
Leaving white whispers in the wind.
And nobody would believe a word that I said.
I was the ghost and she was now memory
I was the witness
And she was gone
With a finger to her lips.
Now, the walls were vacant
And her portrait was buried under six feet
Of dust in a basement of forgotten thought.
But on this day
The day I come home
There she is back on the wall
Life in perfection with no such tragedy
To fade to black
© Galgalo H Abdullah Jr
