It’s only a small wall
That separates them from us,
A wall that is almost entirely made of windows.

They look through
Gaping at our important moments,
Laughing at our silly ones,
Mourning for us, and what we don’t realize
We missed.

They can fixate on their own funerals,
These people mourn themselves

But only for a moment.

When that moment passes they look at you,
At me,
At the loved ones,
who wonder what they should have, could have, done.
But all they want is to see their loved ones smile.

They lean on us for but a moment
But we lean on them for so long,
Cursing that they left us so soon,
Placing them on altars of their deeds,

Forgetting they were just human.