This is not poetry, this is pathetic.
This is not heroic, this is cowardice.
This is not real, this is fake.
This is not me, this is you.
This is not a dream, this is reality.
This is not life, this is death.
This is not anger, this is hatred.
This is not love, this is a lie.
This is not great, this is satisfactory.
This is not me, this is a ghost.

Remember the time when I was alive, not broken and bleeding,
Left in the streets to be eaten by vultures
Remember when I was not a ghost,
Drifting around hoping to be found, transparent as usual,
Remember when I made the right decision to walk home that night,
And not get in the car with the drunk driver,
Only to get hit by the same person I was avoiding.
Remember when you could say how joyfully I lived, and how you can no longer.
I find life is not fair, you make the right decision only to get burned in the long run.
It makes me wonder are there really such things as a good decision,
Or are we ultimately just passing time until the creator gets bored and kills us of.
I do not find this fair, I wish for answers.
So I will remain in between, watching, waiting for my moment.
I will get my revenge, I will get my honor, my dignity, everything you have taken from me

I am Ghost

This is not over, this is just beginning
This is not the first, this is the last
This is not fair, this is compensation
This is not glory, this is vengeance
This is not me, this is who I used to be
This is not life, this is death

I am a ghost remember me, like I will remember you.