I have been in this same spot for fifteen years now.
I have seen the same thing in repeat over and over.
Every single day I stare into deaths pathway, I watch it take away another innocent life.
I see the destruction it does to people I do not know,
and to a person I will never get the chance to meet.
Death is my neighbour, to me he is a man.
He has neither face, nor body.
No voice, and yet each one of us has heard him before.
Each one of us has spoken for him.
He is hated by so many but not I, for I know him all to well. He took a man from me once.
He ripped him out of my life in a cold horrible way, with no warning.
He is no enemy, no friend.
He is my neighbour.
