Roller coaster rides.
Characters in stories told long ago.
How fun, you think! You clap your hands!
Is that who we are?
Mythical creatures, to be shaped at your will?
Thrown aside, when you are bored?
Without feelings, carved, changed for your tale?
Papers thrown in drawers?
Simply names in e-mail?
Signatures on letters you can ignore?
Wraiths of babies you held once, long ago, counting toes and fingers?
Children named once upon a time? Or not?
Reminders of dead siblings?
We are not real to you, though. We cannot hurt, we cannot bleed: or so you think.
Except that we are, in fact, human.