Haunted

Haunted by the misuse of letters
and a generation of bed wetters,
Haunted by our government debtors
and casual Super Bowl bettors,

Haunted by the beauty I can not possess
and the empty bottles to subdue my stress,
Haunted by the things I can not confess
and the image of a devil wearing a blue dress,

Haunted by a disease with no known cure
and the politics of business I seldom abhor,
Haunted by the feelings I'm not so sure
who it was outside my door,

Haunted by the memory inside my head
and the Sunday evenings right before bed,
Haunted by the letters which are still unread
and the dreams deferred that end up dead.