Sometimes I can
see them in the crevices
under layers of latex paint
and black scuff marks
On the beige walls
smiling
laughing
crying
yelling
All barely a whisper
In the halls
sometimes they hide
behind the bleachers
trapped under
the new gym floor
One or two are
residing in the books
dusty
untouched
iIn the quiet library
Their fingerprints tracing
the shelves
Sometimes they are in
the ceiling tiles
breathing in
and out
A soft cadence hidden
between the shouts
of our own
Ghosts on the seats
of the auditorium
A silent ruffle
of the thick red curtains
I know I will
one day join them in their
silent presence
A faint murmur
in the piercing ring of the bell
in the stoney hallways
in the ancient AC vents
Hushed…
…but undeniable
I know I too
will haunt these walls
with an unknown legacy
