One heart cracked,
One heart shattered,
One heart watching the wicked pattern.
One girl crying,
One boy living,
One friend wishing for the sound of forgiving.
Broken again,
But not the same,
For one heart can break without knowing the breaker’s name.
“A ghost without death,”
She says with a cry.
“But what about me,”
Another asks in reply.  
Suddenly she is a child once more,
A blow so blind,
One asks what for.
For who could have foreseen this turn of fate?
The broken,
That’s who!
They should have known to translate,
“One should know not to leave ‘unspeakable’ words unspoken,
For unspeakable leads to the further breaking of the broken.”
And just when they think the ghost has left them merry,
The pieces left not shattered but swollen and bleary.
The broken are then left buried.