I am reading a book and my son is dead

I do my job, I do it well, and my son is dead 

I cook a delicious meal and my son is dead 

I’m listening to you talk, I really am, but my son is dead 

the seasons change and my son is dead 

objects remain, yet my son is dead 

I wish it could be different, but my son is dead 

I try to be a good person, but my son is dead 

sleep comes, but just before it does, my son is dead and it is unbearable 

I wake up and my son is dead 

I’m sorry that this is repetitive, but this is my life 

because my son is dead