The Death of a Someone

I saw a woman standing alone,
at a grave, desolate and afraid.
There was a lost someone, it was plain to see,
I know not when or where,
but here she is now, standing there.

Perhaps a sibling – an acquaintance,
who had a life cut short for reasons unknown,
a brother left hanging,
or a sister still wilting.

A parent maybe – she’s old enough;
lost to drugs, to murder, to pain –
a thousand ways to die,
but only one goodnight.

Could be a lover – haven’t we all
loved and then lost
in more ways than one.

I saw her for a second before passing away.
I was just passing by, her a glimpse in my eye,
but I not in her’s, as I walked to my own life’s demise,
while I wondered why she had lost her’s.

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