A Lovely Day at the Morgue
Nonchalantly, she was shot in the head,
he crashed his plane,
he was burned to death.
Without hesitation, they cut her open,
they reviewed his X-rays,
they cleaned him with a sponge.
With thoughful insight, they examined the hole in her head,
they examined his disfigured face,
they cut his well-done body, too.
Emotionally detached, I stand there watching,
I watch with a perverted sense of joy,
Looking at those bodies for what they are:
Sacks of meat used to intrigue and explore.
Nonchalantly, I live.
Writer's note: Based off actual experience.
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Stories, Poems or random thoughts I've either collected or made up, some complete, some incomplete.
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