The Haunter Poem by Tony Mushrow

The Haunter.


No more flesh,
bone, or beating heart.
Now a haunter,
one who is in the crowd.
But no one can see.

No more laughter,
kind smiles or bitter tears.
one who screams, voiceless,
And no one hears.

No more to embrace,
feel or gently go.
Now a haunter,
one who reaches out.
but cannot touch,
or be touched.

No more to feel,
the dance of snowflakes,
one who will look up and hope,
only for diamonds,
to ignore the upturned face.

Nothing more to offer,
from the feverish mind.
Now a haunter,
one who is full of emptiness.

No more to visit,
And knock on doors,
But now travels through.
One who walks nowhere?
but is floating near.

Now a haunter,
to exist only,
in dreams and memories.
In the dusty photograph,
in the corner of your eye.


a phantom companion…..