As you sit snug in your casket case
I wonder-
Do you ever feel the glare of polished eyes
Watching you, thinking praying for your wake?
Can’t blame them for the racket, you see-
As you lie peacefully
We feel the pulsing- or maybe a lack there of.

If a pin dropped I wouldn’t notice-
For I can only hear the loud stare of polished eyes starting to compact within shaking heads-
Yet they forget their owner ship over
living beating- ****** hearts.
While yours lay still in a box with only a shell.