Midnight ghosts

Pancakes, honey and strawberries
a morning of sunshine, warmth and no worries.
You wore a little dress and bought
some white lilies.
Sat in the garden and read your favourite book.
Strolling through the city, eating your favourite food.
People watching and daydreaming about love as you write poetry.
But as the day ends you come back to reality.
Burying yourself in your bed solely
 with your midnight ghosts.
They await your scattered soul
 to give it a new scar,
 to peel off the layers of courage
that you have gathered so far,
To gag your mouth and take away the peace,
You plead, weep and shiver.
And again you're a haunted museum,
 longing to be understood.