The ghost in a town inhabited

The moon would phantom its way up,

creepily, as if tip-toeing.

No one slept earlier in the city

and no one cared for ghosts, either.

But where a free-spirit belongs,

a free-spirit will find itself.

This town was completely different.

The wooden houses creaked hymns

in the direction of the wind.

The dust covered these old buildings

and not a single soul was in sight.

The run-down petrol station 

seemed to have been run dry.,

probably by some reckless youth,

in pursuit of some fun and a road trip.

You could clearly make out

the overall image the town

had tried to create of themselves.

But it was history now.

It was all gone.

What outbreak had diseased them?

Where did all these people go?

It must have been a war, wasn't it?

But a free-spirit embraces even in scarcity.

The pleasure is hidden in small things.

& she had heard stories of herself in the city.

Such a pity. No one was discreet these days.

Everyone was trying to be the one with THE story.

None of which were juicy, of course.

But they still got her.

They knew what she was up to,

now, and they kind of saw her light shine 

when it wasn't supposed to.

So she ran away.

And this is where we are now.

In the inhabited town 

that understood her more than herself.

It was an open unrestricted playground

that she discovered she could discover herself in.

There was not too much grass here

but those childhood days were gone.

She could live wherever and adapt 

and she was happy she could.

She needed it now.

The clouds paved way and the sun struck her face,

she stealthily sneaked back into the shadows,

she knew her place.