We all seem to treat life differently,
And thus we all treat death differently.
I wonder why sadness is used
For moments such as these.
Why feel that that something was taken away?
If that person was not ours...
Am I cold? Or have I numbed my senses?
I feel no loss, but I feel the loss others feel.
That I cannot help.
And strangely enough, that is the only pain I can sense.
Still there are those who see the same as I,
Have seen less than I,
And will know less than I.
They cry... they suffer... yet I remain untouched.
I've been in this spot before...
Do I not see something they do?
I wonder why... I wonder if I'm holding something without knowing...
Not knowing, not feeling, not seeing...
I'm just sitting here inside my box...
And thus we all treat death differently.
I wonder why sadness is used
For moments such as these.
Why feel that that something was taken away?
If that person was not ours...
Am I cold? Or have I numbed my senses?
I feel no loss, but I feel the loss others feel.
That I cannot help.
And strangely enough, that is the only pain I can sense.
Still there are those who see the same as I,
Have seen less than I,
And will know less than I.
They cry... they suffer... yet I remain untouched.
I've been in this spot before...
Do I not see something they do?
I wonder why... I wonder if I'm holding something without knowing...
Not knowing, not feeling, not seeing...
I'm just sitting here inside my box...