Bob was invisible

Am I even here? - Said Bob to himself

With a silent voice he couldn't quite hear

He looks at the mirror: nothing but a blur

He tries to talk to people: no one hears

Then he yells: no one reacts

So when alone, he swells

Like an angry banished demon

Tears down portraits from the walls

Breaks the glasses of the windows

Am I really invisible?! Just a ghost?

Sometimes I feel they can hear me whisper!

Yet, all it does is bother them...

Finally, Bob hides 

So that no one can see him anyway

But I am sure I must exist! - insists Bob

Dismal figure, poor little boy

I saw someone seeing me once!

Therefore, visible I must be

Or was it just a delusion 

Of my desire to finally be seen?

But if I could project someone that sees me

Then I could also project myself

And finally, see the Bob-me

Still, I can not project me

So...no!, a projection it cannot have been

Thus, invisible I cannot be

But then...why does no one see me?

Well, what Bob didn't know was that 

 He was one of those rare materials

Which only under dark-light would shine

And without it, it was just a shapeless spectrum

Imperceptible, inconspicuous, invisible