Forgotten
Up on the top of a hill
With a windy, narrow road
Sits a little cemetery,
It's residents always home.
In the middle of this resting place,
A girl sits by a grave.
Unmarked and with no flowers
Is where she spends her days.
It's unknown who is buried there,
Or how long it has been.
All she knows is when she dies,
She'll have a gravestone just like them.
Copyright © Palen Drew | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment