Pink Juice Kind of Day by Hailey Bucha

As I take another step
My stride gets a bit slower.
My breaths get a bit lower.

All I ever hear them ramble,
“I don’t know how you do it”
I’m to the point I question myself.
How do I walk into another room?
one that’s filled with so much gloom.

As I walk away with another lifeless body in hand,
one in a bag that is just so bland.
How does life just go in a freezer?
I thought this would be easier.

I try with ever ounce,
to place them so softly.
Somedays I can’t stand the smell,
of bodies on top of bodies.

We in the back, crack a subtle joke.
One that brings a smile to all.
Sometimes they are just so wrong,
but they keep us going strong.
To us it’s such a normalcy,
something we do for the rest of eternity.

What are we supposed to do?
we have others coming in soon.

Place a smile back on our face,
to hear from one that lacks a knack of common sense.
You sit there just nodding your head.

I question myself every day.
I always tell myself that we are okay.

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