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Head-Haunter
Every day I wake up to a ghost,
A good morning kiss, and a coffee toast,
To memories that lay like anchors
and a smile I can't boast.
Every night I drink with a shade.
To blur the world, and the bed I made,
As the world spins and my thoughts promenade
I can't help but feel my debts are paid.
There's a devil in my smile,
so I'm drinking for seven.
But he curses my tongue,
where he once tasted heaven.
A haunted man, ragged and worn,
can't feel home, when home is torn.
Consent to whither, less rose than thorn.
Away to the ghosts I'm borne.
