The Ghost.

A whisper in the hallways,
A grey smudge in the yard,
Not solid and not touchable,
Not see-through yet not hard.

A haunting call across the floor,
A creak along a stair,
A shifting shadow that you missed,
You look. There's nothing there.

The sound of children crying,
You search but cannot find,
A filmy mist across the moor,
You're deaf, you're dumb, you're blind.

A chilling on your bare flesh,
A shudder down your spine,
You swear there's something doing this,
But there's no further sign.