Ghost

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A ghost.

Not a real one.

Just of a person.

A person he used to be.


Replicas they seem.

Same hair, same eyes, same smile.

But they cease to exist at the same time.

I never see the real him anymore.


I can't remember what he was like,

I don't recognize him.

Outside may be the same,

But inside, nothing is the same.


Deceiving and captivating, he may look

But he's a hollow person,

With only a trace,

of a real person.

A person, I used to know.


An empty soul,

But a full ghost,

To me

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