I'm here. Do you see me?

I'm talking. Can you hear me?

No, of course you don't.

Even if you recognize my existence, You ignore me.

You walk right by me, not even bothering to look.

It's like I'm dead. No, if I was a corpse, then you might bother to show concern.

But what about when I am dead?

When you hear how I died in a tragic way?

Will you feel bad that you spited me all those times?

Maybe you will, but you probably wont.

You're just that heartless.

Written while watching Doctor Who. Go away.