What if ghosts just fly around
To dig up the gossip on you
And that’s why they’re hiding under the sheets
And always whispering “OoOoOohhhh”?
Tag Archives: Ghosts
Lord Aberforth, Earl of Wigginsby, Doth Endorse This Message
I think the reason the ghost population
Has gone down in recent years
Is probably that it’s not fun to see people
Discuss the political stance of light beers
Filed under Poems
Why Ghosts Are Angry
Greg had no reason to live anymore
So he bought a rope and locked the door
And made a new necklace he tied to the roof
And fell to his death without uttering “oof.”
He opened his eyes and he looked all around
And saw his cadaver and angrily frowned;
Yes, he succeeded in becoming dead
But now he’s a ghost, and immortal instead.
Worse, now the tourists come hither and yon
For signs of the ghost of Greg, who is gone.
He’ll wail and shriek and pray for some help
But the tourists just cheer and write “Five stars” on Yelp.
If its deserved or not, no one can tell
But Greg lives forever in introvert Hell.
Filed under Poems
That Feels Possessive…
I checked into a hotel room
That was almost six feet tall,
Weighed 180 pounds
And once was very small.
I used it for one happy day
To run around the world
Then checked out in the evening
As on a bed it curled.
I checked back in tomorrow
But found it was today
And the room I’d left behind me
Was mostly still okay.
I expect to keep this up
For quite a while yet
For, being an ambitious ghost,
It’s the best that I can get.
Filed under Poems
Why I’d Make A Lousy Ghost
I try to be original
When compliments I make.
I try not to be boring
For the complimentee’s sake,
So purely inintentional
Was my word-choice slight.
Who knew “you’re an opaque one”
Was not thought as polite?
Filed under Poems
The Lament Of An Atheist Ghost
If you kill me
‘Til I’m dead
By hitting me
Upon my head
I will not get
Revenge on you
‘Cause that’s not a thing
Dead folks can do.
Filed under Poems
Accordian to the prophecy…
Some Texan ghosts have moved in;
To dance with them they want us.
It makes me feel special somehow
To say they polka haunt us.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 