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after the final breath, the silence of nothingness.
lies the physical husk, the shell of nobody less.
and many come around to pay attention to the deceased.
almost as if the soul is brand new and life has been released.

they recall memories of the one, hold them in high regard, lifting them.
like a new born, held in the air by the old nurse, crying profusely while connected by stem.
oh, how beautiful life is, what they have become.
a superstar in their own right and all of a sudden, everyone has all the wisdom.
they know.. i promise they know.
they weren't around but they still saw them grow.

most only know the name of the deceased, by name and picture.
they truly do not know how to feel, sad or comforting to the sad, their emotions a mixture.
so they try to fabricate tears, and look as sad as they possibly can
and respect their name, mention it as much as they can and look like their biggest fan

truthfully, they left more of an impact now than when they were still with us, unfortunately it was fate.
because humans do not care about anybody until life has to highlight them, but then it is too late.
the angels will sing and the soul will be lifted, to fly high.
it's sad but most people's lives only begin after they die.

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