There is ghost walking those halls/
A young man, fifteen to seventeen years old depending who you talk to/
As his only existence is in whisper/
In memories/
And a blank photo/
Whispers of a pale and cold phantom that drifts from one room to another/
A cold chill and wave despair grips you as he gets close/
Sadness is the only unchanging character ever given to him/
As he only exists in memories/
And a blank photo/
Memories of a boy that was distant/
As if you could only meet him across rooms and in hallways/
In the muffled distracted and detached talk and quick gaze into his eyes/
As he only exists in a blank photo/
A real photo of truly the boy who walked those halls/
An unknowable entity that existed between lips and inside minds/
Never physically present in the brick and metal walls/
So even if there is no photo, that is the only photo taht could ever truly capture who he was then and now.
You see the myth is true/
The urban legend of a boy haunting that cold building/
Except he isn’t there anymore/
He wanders other halls and rooms/
And if you ever want to see him/
Return to that school and look for his blank photo/
You will see the man he grew into and the boy he grew from/
Because he haunts me.


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