A Poem About Ghosts

Every poem I've come across has always been about love,
but no, I won't give in
I won't write about love

Love is stupid, and horrible
terrifying, and extremely wild,
so no, I refuse

I refuse to write about love,
so this poem is about ghosts.

Ghosts are the spirits of people who used to live
spirits that still roam on earth
waiting for fulfillment

Waiting for something they've been yearning,
perhaps love

No, not love
A goal they want to achieve
someone they want to achieve - something

I don't want to be a ghost,
for if I was one,
it would be difficult to touch your face

Your eyes,
your lips,
and your cheeks

But being a ghost means nothing about love,
and being a ghost means nothing about you

This poem is nothing about love,
because this poem,
is a poem about ghosts.