Uncle John told me once that we have a ghost in the attic

Said he was a friendly ghost, told me not to panic. 

He told me he just liked to be around, see the family from time to time

We would hardly ever notice him, maybe just a gust on the wind chime. 

But still this rather scared me, I was only a child of maybe five

To think that someone was walking above my bed - someone not alive!

There were nights I couldn’t sleep - I heard the pipes creaking in the wall

Someones I would stifle a tear - sometimes I would start to ball. 

But as I grew up, the ghost began to fade. 

I feared girls instead - I just wanted to get laid. 

I had nearly forgotten what Uncle John said to me

Till my 21st birthday, when I could drink legally.

I told Dad what his brother had said, and my dad finished his drink

I asked what was on his mind, what he had started to think

And then he looked away from me, and ordered us more beers

And after he drank half of his, he said “Son, John’s been dead for thirty years.”

Next Chapter: The Lake