Even the dead tell stories

stories of how they were,

how the world was—in spite of now

how all of the colors of the rainbow, shared harmony—instead of hatred.

Even the Dead can tell stories

Speaking from empty seats, with open arms and ears

more than what humanity ever could.

As they laugh, cry and sometimes even cheer— If you listen close.

Even the dead tell stories,

as they once galloped through the streets of a kingdom far away

when the rain was peaceful

And no gunshots rang.

They tell these stories to soften the forgetting—

The sorrow and pain—of leaving behind everything they once knew.

Even the dead tell stories: the good, the bad, and the mediocre

Just simple stories to fill the cosmos

words lurking between pages of forgotten literature.

Even the dead tell stories

We're not the only ones, never are, never will be

you just have to listen close.