The problem with being a ghost is that you’re never remembered.
Life’s movie reel spills on without you
And you escape every frame. You learn you can’t touch.
The bones that settle in your box become hardly yours,
A funeral happened and you were never invited
No one saw how you dressed.
You have trouble making decisions
as a rule you don’t know which way to fly.
You’d be stopped for jaywalking
if you weren’t so damn invisible all the time.
When a child cries no one cares which way you turn.
You don’t have any morals or pride
Its mother slaps you without seeing your hair or your eyes.
You forget yourself at parties,
But you don’t need to forget
Your laughter gets lost in the wallpaper
You become an extra nail driven in.
No body looks for you
and no body knows where you’re going,
but this is okay
soon they’ll be better off dead.

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