Sad Clothing

Rummaging throughout closets, finding nothing of worth or value. Belongings left hanging limply without clues to their futures. Dust gathering around shoulders and sleeves, showing facts of being left alone too long. Mothballs without scent, shriveled and crumpled, staring at the walls. Death has a habit of leaving clothes, bereft, unaware of a person's demise. Afterwards, strangers enter, touching with unfamiliar hands, carelessly tossing, sorting, deciding where they will be put to good use or if they can be used. Where will the clothing's tears be hung when everyone is gone?