Between Above and Below

I don't speak ill of the dead,

just the living.

There are hands working to
change,
help, and
heal,

but not enough.
There are not enough.

Some envy the dead as they
curse the living.

It is much darker above ground,
they say.

It is so lonely without you,
I say.

The dead will sleep as
the living walk in a living dream,

a dream that death can only bring,

a dream that the dead can only dream.

[ SJM ]