Shadows swimming at the corners of my vision,

Ghosts taunting me from every angle of what I could have been.

There's a sunrise, a moon at night,

But somehow shadows find their way to light.

For every possibility unfurling before me,

There's a thousand more I never stopped to see.

And it's those that haunt me in the middle of the night,

While I plow along the path I decided was right.

Nothing but ghosts, never to be realized.

I keep them in a quill pen I've long coveted and prized,

So ghosts can keep living in lives that aren't mine,

And the path I chose gives them life in the lines.