The past few nights

I’ve heard footsteps on the stairs

The pitter patter of little feet

The creaks, get louder

An unexpected touch, a wisp from a lad

Something has happened that made him sad

He marks on my window, my Dad, my Dad

A tortured soul, lingering in the cold

Trying to get his story told

The windows are closed

My curtain blows

A restless soul, an eerie feeling

A blotch of gloom, a dark, dark moon

I hope his restless spirit finds peace soon

11:19 PM