dad
If you listen close to the rain’s gentle song,
You might hear a whispered cry
If you ever needed proof of the ghosts in your roof
I’d hope we’re eye-to-eye
If you climb to the attic and pull down the sheets
No spirits you will see
For ghostly as I may appear–
It’s me, don’t you see–?
You scream and holler in my presence
And try to banish me
But don’t you know— I love you so
And that is why I must flee.
