Just something that came to my mind

When I died, my life did not matter to anyone.
My soul never reached heaven, my body could not be burried.
I was a lonely ghost wondering the streets.
Not even the peasants found me as a dangeror threat.
So long as I wandered the earth, I never put fear into the hearts of humans.
I did not make them feel my sorrow, my pain, my lonelyness.
They caused my fate and my problem, but who was i?
A lonely ghost who could only spook them? or just some freak whos soul
had never been set free?