Everyone's Dead. Poem by Paul Jonathan Stertz

A sunny day, bodies in motion
Millions of people-crowds like an ocean.
A morbid thought drifts through my head;
In the mind of my eye, everyone's dead.

People are strange, it's just how we are
Pretend we're immortal, and reach for the stars.
Why do we try? Why do we strive?
We act upon impulse while we're alive.

Everyone seems to have somewhere to go
Something to prove-something to show.
As years pass behind us things that we've said
Fade into obscurity-everyone's dead.