The Little White Ghost

In the night
The sky screams
Lightning and thunder.
A lone shadow,
She sits under
The light post.
Skin so pale
The little white ghost.
She's cold tonight.
Scared,
Of her own reflection.
No one to hold tonight
None cared,
There's no affection.
The hatred
Has torn her.
But little does she know
That he,
Is just round the corner.


On the frigid seat
Under the burning light post
She cries.
Silver tears
Flow down the ivory cheeks.
She tries,
To unknow
The love she lost.
It's her cold heart
He seeks.
So at this ghostly hour,
He roams
The lonely streets.
As he draws close
Her heart glows,
Warmer.
But little does she know
That love
Has just turned the corner

The cold lifts
the dark begins to dissolve
she shifts,
gets up
from the haunted seat
and then frail as a flower,
she falls to her knees.
He finds her lone figure
bent on the cold, wet street.
He lifts her up
their eyes meet.
Holds her against
his breast.
He eases her pain,
puts her troubled tangled
soul to rest.
Without a soul to see
and before anyone could warn her
Love took the Little ghost again
just around the corner.