By the window she stands
pushing the corner with her hands.
A ghostly figure of a woman
This was the house she grew up in.
A place nobody has been.
A sad story of why she won't let go.
Her baby was nowhere to show.
She went from room to room
Her poisoned mind brought back so soon.
She hears the sounds, of the cries
Of a baby girl that had died.
But was it her baby or someone else's.
Around her were spirits of bad health.
There must of been more then just one baby that died in this place.
Around her were some unfamiliar faces.
She died in the 1800's and this house used to look so different.
Out of shape she appeared with a crooked back all bent.
She tries to look through the walls..
Maybe a memory she will recall.
Walking from room to room she calls out her babies name.
A babies cry she hears, she held her head in shame.
All of a sudden the familiar cries become louder and clearer.
There was her baby lying in her crib, holding out her hands.
The young woman ran by her side and took the baby in her arms, for that she understands.
They went off into the light together.
The young woman, the crying baby, forever.
©terrylin53
T