Spectre

Girl gone quiet.
Rooms full of half-forgotten faces,
Masks to hide the pain,
Who will she be today?

Eyes clouded and dark,
Staring over your head,
But boring into your soul.
Do you see her standing in front of you?

Doesn’t say a word.
Called pleasantly shy,
That unimpressed state of being,
Have you asked how she is?

Head always down,
Walk past the empty shells,
People, know their names.
Will they ever notice her?

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