Human

What might this be
Hollow corpse once skin and bone
in a deep hole you lay quiet alone
for years century's on end
Were you forgotten

Black suit still clean like new
yet thin white hairs forever age
just as you do
Hands stiff, weathered, and cold
like whats left of your insiders
eternally rotten, dry,old

Dawned beneath rocks and dirt
in a boring box your size
is this your home
under flesh time has stolen your eyes
eye lids open empty to your skull
where small insects eat away
along side fungus and mold

So still relaxed, and clam
by definition nothing more
just patient and effortless
what are you waiting for
confused about the place
the things the corpse lacks
and wont do

asking questions shall go unanswered
what is the purpose of this
what are you