People have their own lives,
Updates become a due,
Death cuts down all time,
Then time must move on, too.
Offers of help get quieter,
(Thankfully in a way):
Sympathy visits for moments
It doesn’t intend to stay.
In the end, it’s always you,
While everyone falls asleep;
You lie awake and breathe
And dread to dream too deep.
When life is hardest hit,
You see with empty eyes,
You see life falter,
You watch, as it dies…
You look around in pain,
Through opaque ground glass,
Others say, it’s just time,
Yet, it does not pass!
As life lays dying,
You are well aware
Of those who feel
And choose to be there.
Words are dead like you now.
Dead like lungs that won’t breathe
Without a ventilator:
Sad COVID ridden bags
That don’t mean much when burnt,
Despite all the roads travelled,
Despite all the lessons learnt.
Eventually, they lie on paper,
Like dead lungs in plastic,
Left for those who may read,
If it falls within his creed.
Ultimately they are dead leaves,
Hanging on some dead tree,
For ghosts and strangers meaning
Nothing to you and nothing to me.
Hearts Still Care 
You must be logged in to post a comment.