The White Ghost (Patreon)

Last night I stirred and woke to see a ghost.

In my darkened room he stood, this White man.

Bitter he was, yet in some kind of boast

he moaned of being part of some lost Klan.

Then my chamber was mobbed by the others,

all of them White like him. And though many 

seemed lonely they all claim’d to be brothers.

I must say I have never seen any

spirits in my life so wretched as my

White shades, who had wasted their lives feeling

wrathful and hurt but unable to cry

or allowing a moment for healing.

I felt bad for them, but went back to bed.

I’m not afraid, and I’m glad they’re all dead.