Grave Robber Poem by Sonny Rainshine

She buries
her worries in the obituaries;
she mingles her fears
in other people’s tears.

The mock grass
of new graves
saves her from
madness. She basks
in the sadness
of other people’s grief.

So consumed by
morbidity and the frigidity
of death, she is presumed
to be sympathetic,

and wise in matters of grief,
but she is a thief
of other people’s feelings.
Her blood runs
cold as the grave;
her emotions wreaths
of plastic roses.