the ghost of the artist

bernardsbarnes Poetry, , , ,

a ghost of the artist stands behind me
his eyes running the course on my work
a sigh of resignation escapes my throat
this digression causes the ghost to start
as an icy hand, pulsing with exuberance
who in life created visions, splendor
rests dead fingers upon my soft shoulder
as gentle words whisper “Believe”
and my creation continues

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