Mourning

The mild and merciful creature that created us

Did not think on love or aesthetics

Only practical matters, letting us share

Every organ for this and for that

Beauty and beastly needs combined in various ways

No sentimentality, when you are dead

No more talking, no mobile calling to heaven

A one way street with few if any coming back to tell

Sad story leaving us behind to mourn and remember

Only our resilience might save us for a while

From getting lost and meeting the inevitable end

In a bad way