The Real Killer

It isn’t the smoking that killed him,
Neither the lack of sleep,
nor the diabetes,
It was not the pollution that got to him,
the smoke from the factory where he worked,
It was not even the burns and bruises on the regular,
a fireworks factory it was,
It was not his dinghy sordid house,
Or the unclean water,
Nay, What killed him was a loveless life,
His children left him,
His wife was dead,
He had no friends,
For he would always be bitter with everyone,
Only cause no one understood his pain,
No one asked him ,
How was your day,
are you sleeping all right?
He died from a broken heart,
Loneliness killed him…
Not the causes in the autopsy.


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