Am I Insensitive?

Ghosts come in the shape of the living
I‘ve seen, both
But; guess what?
It’s frightening how, alive
They are compared to those not yet, dying.

...........................

Meal ticket

The piece of meat
She put aside for him
Has gone to her son
Such is family, life.
The ladders on the run...

poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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