The boy with the dirty needle, and the girl who mourns him

They died
Perhaps it was not the real
In the ground
Over
Kind of death
But it sure felt that way

He died that way
In the eyes glazed over
Needle in the arm
Never getting back up
Kind of death

They way the rest of them died
Makes his death look like nothing
Like nothing about him really mattered
There is just one problem
He did matter
He still matters
And even if I am the only one
Who will stand at his grave
Speak to his parents
Bring him fresh flowers
Love him
Like he deserves to be loved

I will still be there
To show them
That he matters

The world will not remember
The boy with the dirty needle
Nor will it care
About the girl who still mourns him
But somewhere there are people
Who will read this
And decide to be careful
Not to be a Them
Or a Him
The only difference being
That one of them was someone to mourn