The ashes of nobodies

(No bodies?)

Are in a mausoleum

Placed on a shelf

Without ceremony

As if life repeats itself in death

Held without specific honor

No proof of ancestry

Tracing roots back to the dust

They’ve returned to

without a name or with

unknown cause or suppos-ed

forgotten or lost

As if life repeats itself in death

No words to dress them in Saint’s clothes

A hurried end without recompense

Humbly offered words of worth

They did exist here on earth

They dreamed the dreams of all of us

But the shelter line was drawn too high

The cracks they fell into, too deep

As if life repeats itself in death