The Ghost

The blue clothed sky, God's colander

From darker it grows to bland and blander

And through the holes star light seeps

Fading as the ink blue runs naught deep

And in the city,  a ghost. 

The grey walled urban filthy maze

Crones and cultured women in lace

Filth of the earth in the cracks of the road

Grime coated sky, leaden grey load

And through this mess, a ghost

Glowing women otherwise wrinkled

White red faces, frosting sprinkled

Chatoyant jewels, glistening hair

Chitter chatter in the city's fair

And amongst them, the ghost.

Muted colours of the flags flying high

He walks the Earth, the end is nigh

His face saddened, despair how grave

Bound in iron, forever a slave

And so he weepeth, the ghost. 

Upon this Earth forever to wander

Never beyond the hills o'er yonder

Cursed he is, and he payeth his price

Heart broken being, imperfect splice

He roams the crowd, the ghost.

The blue clothed sky, God's colander

From darker it grows to bland and blander

And in the sunlight, a shimmer of white

Barely seen, a speck so bright

Wandereth the lonely ghost.