The Ghost of Little Grey
Little Grey
passed away
in 1998
a wicked witch
a mental glitch
and too much on a plate
a date that couldn’t wait
all the boys relate
A whimsical wordplay?
A wisp of misty grey?
An innocent
who hardly spent
a moment and a day.
An Eastern passageway
to say it’s all okay
It’s not okay!
It’s never okay…
The world is on your shoulders
The storm, a warm bed steals
The cold just getting colder
as frostbite nips your heels.
Your guardian looks homeward
and stubbornly conceals
your whereabouts and glares from out
a weatherproof windshield.
“Grim death is how it feels!
a wound that never heals!”
Cries aloud a monster proud
The orphanage, a field.
Little stray
I leave you
to cross the rainbow bridge
Ten thousand smiles receive you
A new playmate, ornate gate
a blink above the ridge
Where dread falls dead behind you
as you realize your wings
the fiend will never find you
among the pretty things
A choir of angels sings
“Heaven, this is Heaven
we are ten thousand and one!
Let the Cheshire sound the trumpet
earthly suffering is done!”
Little grey
I’m beneath you
You deserved much more in life
I will never, ever reach you
As you soar to greater heights.
I’m reminded in the darkness
that everyone is grey
ghostly, dumb and blinded
by a moment and a day.
