If Ghosts Do Not Exist
If Ghosts Do Not Exist If ghosts do not exist, why do I hear voices in my head? Would you think my mind is gone? Call me crazy instead? Or do you think the birds utter the melodies at dusk for us or for them? Don't you think to yourself: why don't dogs bark when we bury the dead? If this is all we have, wouldn't our choices mean more? Would you wake in a constant fear of a wasted day, which is now gone? Would you dwell on the past or the memories we haven't yet lost? Would it warm you inside or tear you with its choice, knowing you are being watched? Do you care to know, to wonder whether it's a blessing or a curse? When your body begins to tense, your mind a twisted mess, when darkness takes over, do you wish the ghost to be your redemption, your second chance—the light at the end of the tunnel that you dwell in? Do you wish they were proud? Do you wish they could say that? Do you wish them here with you again? Say to them the words you were too late...
