There was a man -
not old, not young
he used to walk these halls...
A year ago -
he was here maintaining
what maintenance men maintain...
This year -
he's gone
he had four months notice...
I wondered why -
why him, why babies,
why the good instead of the bad...
Death.
Doesn't.
Discriminate.
Black or white -
young and old -
rich or poor -
Death.
Doesn't.
Discriminate.
I remember the man -
blue eyes, grey hair
needed a good shave...
He would sit -
at the table
in the break room...
Fixing problems -
having meetings
up until his time was up...
I notice everyone -
still running in a hustle
angry, hurried and stressed...
They didn't ponder -
the heart of life
theirs didn't even skip a beat...
while I wonder -
what does all that matter...
and who's next.
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