The Past

They pass me every day I wake
Here and there the ghosts I see
And though I sometimes wish they'd leave
Our meetings always seem to be.

They haunt me when I want to smile
And whisper when I try to rest
And though I really whish they'd stop
Sometimes it seems it's for the best.

The wraiths I see are burned inside
And I can't make them go
And though they hurt and though they scare
It's seeds of life they sow.