I don’t mind telling you the place is haunted,
that inside the walls are all sorts of madness and grief,
trauma and brokenness haunt all who venture too deep
inside these walls.
I am not trying to scare you away,
but you seem like a nice person and deserve knowing
the things that lie within.
For all haunted things are not dark and dank.
Some sparkle with life and beauty,
the ghosts and demons carefully orchestrated
to appear only at night, or when someone inadvertently
insists on opening doors and walking inside.
About this poem
About buildings. About people.