Hired Mourners
After they discover a way
To eradicate grief
By implanting a device
Deep in the brain's pink loam
There will still be the problem
Of embarrassingly jovial funerals
Perhaps those who can't afford
To never feel sorrow
Will be hired to cry
For those who will no longer be
Capable of crying
Like those village women who weep
At processions for the drone dead
Never mind that
They never knew them
But these people will be paid
To wail louder
If the dead were children
Or died tragically young
Quieter if the dead were older
While those who knew
The dead will sit very still
Trying not to smile
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This poem gave me chills. So beautiful.