This is my real-life experience one night in the winter of 1992 when I was all alone in my house in Shrewsbury, MA. <br /> <br />Darkness, darkness all around, <br />But coming through the <br />window blinds… <br />a small glimmer of light <br />casting cruel shadows inside. <br /> <br />I hear a strange noise <br />in the dead of night. <br />Does it come from the basement? <br />Or is it from outside? <br />Could it be a burglar? <br /> <br />I’m far too brave to think <br />it could be a ghost. <br />But are ghosts real? <br />Or do they just lurk <br />in the dark recesses of my mind? <br /> <br />I hear the noise again. <br />This time loud and clear. <br />And when I point my flashight outside <br />What do I see? <br />Footsteps… footsteps on the untrodden snow. <br /> <br />Now I panic… <br />Should I shout? <br />Should I scream? <br />Or just stay calm <br />And try to sleep? <br /> <br />Will I live? <br />Will I die? <br />Is there some place <br />where I can hide? <br />Or better still <br />Should I call 911? <br /> <br />But what if the 911 team <br />is afraid of the ghost? <br />Who will rescue me <br />from the ghost then? <br /> <br />I switch on all the lights <br />and my radio, too <br />to scare away the burglar <br />Or the ghost and… <br />drift peacefully into slumberland soon. <br /> <br />Geeta Ashok <br />Thursday, May 13,2010 <br />5: 00 pm.<br /><br />Gita Ashok<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ghost-32/
