(taken from an extreamly long poem i wrote. P.S is there a reason u insist on posting these stupid coments as questions when they're clearly not questions....?)
The Ghosts
Not 2 b seen
Not 2 n heard
Nor touched 4
All things pass thro them...
Or so they all tell themselves
The feel nothing
No caring emotion
& no corrosion
So they eat away at them
Thinking they feel nothing....
Pain moves right thro them
They tell themselves
as the Ghost floats about....
Aimlessly....Endlessly....Restlessly....
Searching 4 some1...
Any1....who cares 2 notice them
2 help them...but help never comes...