The Old Ghosts Ask Me
the old ghosts ask me
“what have you done?”
to which i say
“i have played guitars, and even bled on them
i have walked endless miles through the coldest nights
and the warmest of afternoons
i have sang my heart out
and prayed to gods both believed in
and not”
they tell me that is not enough
so the old ghosts ask me
“where have you been?”
to which i desperately claim
“in the libraries reading your poems
in the bars drinking your cocktails
in the streets falling in love with your women
and in the depths of madness speaking with you”
snidely they smirk
and tell me that is not enough
the old ghosts ask me
“where are you going?”
i confess
“i do not know”
finally interested
the old ghosts ask me
“well,
how do you plan to get there?”
i tell them
“anyway i can
in a way that’s all my own”
they smile with concession and tell me
“you’re doing alright”
