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"Nemo Veritis" (No One Cared)
283Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx8DOeH1l2F
I always dreamed of being someone with friends.
Everyone listened closely to my every word.
Laughing at my latest satire, so funny,
That even a stranger just walking by would take an interest.
But just a thunderous silence, no one laughing.
The only thing louder was the gun I used.
I never left a note or a reason why, I didn't say goodbye.
I had no imagination; I ended my life with a .45.
A lifeless me, and a puddle of blood with some spattered on the bathroom wall.
The mess I made, my mom complained.
Not the fact I was dead.
With no sorrow in her voice, my mom called 911 and told them, "My son shot himself."
The operator asked if I was still breathing.
My dear mom said, "I doubt it; he shot himself in the head."
Soon, without a blink,
The police and the ambulance came, and the EMT knew I was dead.
I truly knew, no one cared.
I stare at a patch of grass and weeds and a pile of dirt.
I look at the simple stone with my name and the date I was born until two days ago.
Is this what our life comes down to? A stone with our name and the time we lived on it.
My mom and sister were the only ones who attended my funeral.
Front and center, and the only ones in attendance.
I wished I had a girlfriend or wife; I might not have ended my life.
My grief, my loss, my life meant nothing.
It was just because they had to, not a tear drawn from their eyes.
I knew no one cared.
A simple peach rose laid northward and true.
As straight as the arrow that pierced the life of yours truly.
The end of a letter never sent.
To a person who was never waiting to hear from me and a stamp never used.
No grief was lost on me because no one cared.
My mom and sister walked away.
I sit here, by myself, thinking they can't see my ghost and realizing the only time my name was in the paper was at the bottom of the page, not at the top with the latest caper.
My name, funeral at 10 am, Upper Alton Cemetery today.
But no one cared.
I stared at my grave until the sun went down.
This is my eternity, my afterlife, my grief.
The only one who cried for me was me.
I'm sure my funeral fulfilled some fairy tale, some wish of somebody who hated me.
I realize the pain, the bullying, and the failed suicides all led to this moment, and realize I lived for nothing.
The stars started to come out and the other ghosts as well, and they came up to me and asked,
"Why do you sit here? You know no one cared."
"I know, I don't know what else to do."
"Just say goodbye; your grave isn't going anywhere."
Because no one cared.
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