When I was born, so was a ghost.
When anyone would look at me,
It was the ghost they’d really see.

I was a child, and couldn’t tell.
I thought I was that ghost as well.
But, slowly, truth would start to show.
And when at last I let them know…

…They turned their heads and sought the ghost.
The ghost was all they wished to see.
The ghost was who they loved the most.
The ghost of who they thought me to be.

It’s been so long, and still they yearn
What’s only lived inside their minds.
I wonder if they’ll ever learn
That while they seek what none can find,
And fail to let me into their hearts,
We both end hurt, and drift apart.

– Lady Scarecrow