Many were killed this one time, somewhere.
They lived… They grew… They sinned… They suffered… They died.
I do know where,
I do know when,
and I do know how.
But I don’t know anything about all that I have summed.
Because this life is the life we are all bound to live.

One of them was a girl born in a land -Whatever land-
during a time -whatever time.
She had a mom, a dad, a house…
She was kind, clumsy, and more.

The other one was a man born in someplace, at some time.
He had a family and funny jokes.

And the other one was a mom…
Lived here and there…
was this and that…

And 98 more to go…

Descriptions describing anyone.
Quick stories you tell.
A summary of something.
Something you won’t remember.
Someone you read past.
Someone with a story.

What is an extra life on paper?
And what is it among MANY?
All and more of what they lived reduced to four letters
Overlooked and never seen.

100 people are the same as 101, and life goes on.
An additional person doesn’t make jaws drop lower
and tears fall faster.

MANY is, in fact, no one.
You’re only recognized as people but never as a person.
101 is “about a hundred people”
and your significance is only recognized when there aren’t others to spot.
Abbreviating numbers,
years of life, and memories.