The Old Grey Ghost

Well nestled in between the ivory coasts
Tucked well away from the mainstream hosts
A sleepy little town offers a midnight toast
And pays homage to the old grey ghost.

It once had a theater and even bank
Men worked in the mill while the manure pile stank
They built a school to teach little ones to think
The times grew merry as soon as the western sun sank
All around the old grey ghost….

Up went a church with a wicked cool bell
Families picked cotton and stored it to sell
Boys would have persimmon fights down by the well
And the grey ghost sat silent with stories to tell

Oh, how Father Time kept changing things up so fast
On came some twisters and houses came down in a blast
An old Cherokee indian stood on a boulder and dared it to pass
He picked up an axe and sliced through it’s mass
In hopes that it would be the last
Storms now go North or South to avoid another clash
All near the old grey ghost……..

Great grand-dad once heard of lights down by the cemetery
We were all shook up because it seemed quite scary
Papa said there was nothing down there and not to be weary
He said it was the ones still live that should fill us with worry
All under the watching eye of the old grey ghost….

Progress brought the interstate and life moved away
The poison ivy took siege and the tracks grew with hay
People were too busy with their new lives to stop and say
“Top of the morning to you, old friend. What is your cargo this fine day?”
The old grey ghost looked solemn and in unending dismay
With neither a person to talk to nor anyone to play

They had forgotten the old grey ghost
The one which sat rusting nestled between the ivory coasts
Shadows and echoes his only friends he was able to boast
And, sadly, the only ones to offer up him a toast

Under the stars and the silvery moon
Let us not forget them because it can surely spell doom
Some towns do wane while others boom
Not keeping the memories can bring it on soon.

-Thork