I Don't Want To Describe What's It To You? Poem by Sam Betts

The Specialist.
I deliver the news every day, I look into their eyes they don't know what to say.
With their blank stare they don't see me, just a looming death that's soon to be.
This smile is painted for this place above a rictus grin that is my face.
Who you are what did you want to be is all gone now that you came to me.
But I know your pain because I see people like you every day they come to me, you'll die once whilst in your prime, me I die a little each time.