Ant Smith

Dark Matter

The Disappeared

Every few weeks repeats the same shock

Pensioners dead behind doors that were locked

Only discovered when direct debits dried up

The world prefers numbers over lives that are lost

Will any amongst us tally this cost?

If only we noticed the lives that we share

At the moment we notice those lives are not there

If only instead of those internet threads

We took the promise of love to our loved ones instead

Perhaps loneliness then could claim fewer dead?

Don't miss me tomorrow for that is too late

This locked chamber I'm in, is already my grave

Dark Matter