Trying to satisfy the ghosts of our pasts
the wandering, misty, shapes that float and clutter our memories
that haunt the hallways of our minds
the way they haunted the hallways years ago
walking endlessly, aimlessly, round and round the rubric layout
smiling, waving at those blessed enough to be in our circle
coldly ignoring those nameless, faceless people we preferred not to acknowledge
round and round they go
whispering criticizes endlessly, echoing endlessly, words not really there but heard anyway
memories of words that haunt us still,
praises we’re trying to capture, hunting the praises, always hunting the praises of ghosts
long ago reproaches and scorns imagined, remembered, resurrected and rancid
all that remains are the words of the ghosts
haunted, moved, powered, angered, hurt, emboldened
all our lives built by days and events of long, long ago,
driven by the words of ghosts
