You can feel them riding on your heels
but when you turn around
there's never anyone there.
I live in a ghost town,
everything looks closed-down.
The streets are always ghostly silent,
every house is always quiet,
and the school is boarded up,
they say the population is ten thousand
so where are they?
There's so much dust all around,
maybe they all turned to dust,
something brought me to this town,
There's a picture of these kids
floating away on balloons
'Building Dreams, ' the sign says,
oh, if only they knew.
They act like that's what happened to them,
but I don't believe it's true,
I think that there's a prison camp
hidden beneath the school.
I'm so glad I'm free from all of that,
but still every day
the deputy stops and asks,
'Are you trying to get away? '
I wonder who runs that school,
You can go in any store,
there are people at the desk
but every single cupboards bare
in every single house.
I wonder if behind that smile,
a handcuff holds them down
and behind those flowered curtains
sit the rulers of this town
How do they know where we are?
Cameras in the sky
every TV sits and watches
and the streetlights all have eyes.
I need to get away from this place,
but then where can you go?
The whole world has turned into a cage,
and we're prisoners, don't you know?
Of ghost-town stalkers.
I applied at almost every store
and at all the motels
they ask me, 'Will you be here forever? '
As if they couldn't already tell.
This place is a tourist trap
the locals are the slaves,
I wonder if any tourists come back
or if any get away.
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Comments about this poem (Ghost-Town Stalkers by Kelly Zion )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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