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Richard Walker

A Kind of Ghost

Visible to anyone in the world
Often in the night
I hear the voice of my redheaded friend
He's always there
When I visit that room again.
The one with the white round tables, where we last met.

I still remember how my eyes filled
When I saw the message. I didn't have to open it.

If the subject is simply a name
It can only mean one thing.



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