I like to go to the cemetery,

To talk with the people the world forgot.

To tell my stories & to listen to theirs.

Sure, you’ll find some of the world’s best listeners there,

But, when it comes to talking they’re an awfully shy bunch.

It’s an eerie place. 

But, the dead are always there to soothe away my fears. 

& I find some strange comfort being there. 

It’s like I’m finally home;

Cuz like them,

the world has forgotten me too. 

Just leave aside the breathing part,

& you’ll find

inside I’m just as dead as they are.

Or maybe I’m already dead,

& I just don’t know it yet.

Maybe I’m just here to fool the living;

To con the life.

I know most of us are.


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