Life in a Box

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...