They say I'm alone
But I am not.
I work with the dead,
So I’ve got
Ghosts and ghouls in my head,
Each of them a friend,
Sharing their wisdoms
In rot.

It’s been some time
Since I’ve met a living.
They come
Insisting my giving
To them my help,
Often of health
But their stories
End only in sinning.

A woman’s just entered
My morgue.
With courage,
She came through the door.
He stride struck a chord-
Like I’d seen her before-
Like I knew my advice’d
Be ignored.

Of course,
She wanted my help.
From death,
Was the terror she felt.
She had come all this way,
I had nothing to say?
So she thanked me and
Returned to her hell.