(taken from an extreamly long poem i wrote. P.S is there a reason u insist on posting these stupid coments as domande when they're clearly not questions....?) The Ghosts Not 2 b seen Not 2 n heard Nor touched 4 All things pass thro them... o 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...