Your Death

When they brought you in
And gathered in flocks to mourn
They wondered why I wasn’t
Shocked, nor why I never shed
A single tear.

How could they understand
That you had stopped living
Many years ago? That
Your laughter and your words had
Ceased to excite me, and
Your tears had ceased to move me?
That I no longer cared
If you were there or not?
That you were like the books
I used to read, now gathering dust

Forgive me, for I did not
Mourn you, nor do I
Miss you. You were already
Dead to me by then.


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