The Spirit’s Modus Operandi

There are things that lead me to believe that upstairs isn’t bare
On the roof ‘no access’ sign is hiding something there
A simple thud could lead me into thinking its a tree
But just above the third story?
I do not think its haunted, by anything quite mean
Perhaps a little clumsy, in fact is what I mean
That’s right a bumbling spirit, bobbing or dancing high
Way above the ground so it staves off a need to cry
For why else would a ghost up there be making so much noise
Unless it needs distraction from the anti of its poise
That poor and lonely spirit needs a friend on summer nights
Too bad for it I can’t go up or else I’d get the frights
I feel for you dear ghost of mine, for I now possess you
You wouldn’t want to possess me, I’m among the very few
Who are immune to your attacks, though you’ve had much more time
To practice at your hobby, but for me I live now for the rhyme
So stay up there and dance away your feelings in the dark
I’ll stay down here and fantasize your ghostly story arc

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