Death Poem by Oliver Hard

A human is dying-normal
She is my grandmother-normal
She is dying of cancer-normal
I am sad, very sad-normal

Why am I sad?
She is only a human
An aging,80 year-old human
Who would no doubt live for a maximum of 2 decades more
But I am sad

I ask myself
WHY AM I SAD?
I question myself
She is only one human
One human out of Seven billion
And there inlyes the reason-she is not a ‘human, ' she's a person

She is not a brainless corpse
Humans are brainless corpses
People are what are likeable
The death of her person is what makes me sad
The cutting of a life

We always complain lives are cut short...Are they really
We will always die, it is beyond inevitable, it's certain
Socially, dying before forty is a tragic instance of life being cut short
When it comes to personal matters, any death is a life cut short

Anyway, back to the question, why am I sad?
I am sad becasuse of the memories
Of when I was younger
When I sat and watched a TV programme about pirates over and over
When she took me fishing with my friend
But more importantly
When she COULD have taken me places
When she COULD have made me laugh
When she COULD be alive, but won't
That is what makes me sad