There is no battle or riot outside my window.

There is no family inside my house.
There are no friends or bars or beers to be drank.
There was no war, famine or genocide.
There has been no hero killed in quite some time.
There were no enemies and no one lost.
There should be no tears to cry.
However, there was a death.
Something died.
Nobody came in and riled the room with bullets.
Nothing came from the sky to sweep our homes up.
Never did the earth move or the cliff slide.
Not a television crew in sight.
But something died.
On the corner there’s a sign “psychic healer”
But does she feel my pain?
At school there’s a poster that wonders if I’m “puzzled?”
Can they kill the dead twice?
In the city bus there’s a poster that inquires “are times tough?”
They don’t even know, do they?
I attended the funeral again.
Its the same one again and again only with different people.
With only one death
Its just that I’ve buried that person over and over.
Yesterday, with dozens before that, at least.
I only want for you to be at that funeral
again and again.
But something died.