When the puppet show
of your life is over
your useless name
is written on a piece of paper,
your mundane pieces
are sobbed over
and lamented
Then we put you in the ground
and leave you there
until
nobody and nothing remembers
your stupid name
except for the earth and the sky
But we are too small to hear them whisper,
the stories of our lives
too loud to even listen
and too human to even care