Dear Mister Editor 

I found an error in the news that I would like to mention
With hopes that you are kind enough to give it your attention,
For, on the page announcing deaths, I found it rather queer
That, though I searched from start to end, my name did not appear. 

Although it is a small mistake, I feel, in my condition,
That I deserve at very least a little recognition.
I can't believe you didn't know that I had passed away.
You spelled the name right of my wife we buried yesterday.

Or did you think those left behind can just go right on living,
Faced with only emptiness and nothing left for giving?
Taken from the only thing that kept my heart alive,
How is it possible you'd think that I could still survive?

Your writers on the evening shift must have heard the sound
My torn heart made the moment that they placed her in the ground.
Perhaps they thought a cold wind rose and blew with icy breath
Instead of knowing it was me within the throes of death.

Now that I have done my best to bring this fact to light
I'm sure that you are willing to correct your oversight.
Tomorrow in the morning news, please try to tell my side
For, though I breathe, I feel as though I were the one who died.