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Best Epitaph Poems

Below are the all-time best Epitaph poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Epitaph poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Dear Men by chizoba vincent, john
Of Earth And Sky by Capitano, Phil
The Dogs we called Family by Timperley, Dave
The Great Blue Heron - Epitaph for Fish by Babbit, DM
Levi by Timperley, Dave
Epitaph for The Dysfunctional --- Life of John Doe by Misra, Karam
Epitaph for a Dreamer by Langford, Eton
The Bar by Timperley, Dave
OH MY SENTINEL by Woods, Sun

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The Best Epitaph Poems

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Yellow Press -

He undresses rumor to reveal lies
this is how the desperate man cries,
Extra Extra he tries to sadden ya,
a bundle of rancor rambles from the shambles of his shame
finding form on a page of purely personal pathos
what he can't have he taunts,
flaunts falsehood as fact in commiserating style,
vulgar and vile such as pornographic propaganda
designed to compell despair with poisened air,
what does he care, loyalty he knows not how to share,
decorum just a ditch in the swamp of his heart,
hurt hurt hurt is the mantra of his yellow emotion
a mud temple is his refuge,
burn love, ravage respect, ruin reputation
is the curve in his grimace, the grime in his game,
even the news stands have rejected his rank rubbish,
a character assassinator eliminated the Poet's assembly,
take your delusional drama to the closet playa
hang it on a hanger of humbled heresy,
your rusty razor shall not go "haymaker" anymore
remain in your "hayfever" brought on by Truth's retribution,
a wedge maker is your legacy, a virtuous man your fallacy -


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Someone Special


In your life you will meet SOMEONE SPECIAL sometime
Listen now as I tell you how death has took mine
Not a rock or a film star but a father so true
I lost SOMEONE SPECIAL when dad, I lost you

My heart it was aching when I saw my mum
Her crying, her shaking disbelief left me numb
I could not believe he was actually dead
Even after his name in the paper I read

At his funeral I carried his coffin with pride
Trying at all times my great hurt to hide
But my heart at last sank and the tears they did flow
But good memories stay with me where ever I go

His laughter, his smile, his quick cheeky wit
Were qualities that I admire, I admit
All children loved him with passion and fire
He showed love and kindness, which we all should admire

He left many people who cared a great deal
He touched their lives and their hearts he did steal
For to know him was pleasure and only brought joy
I was blessed to have loved him as both man and boy

dated 26/06/2011

Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2011

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

The Mulberry Tree And Its Birds Part Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN The Mulberry Tree & its Birds IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL : One day When Bulbul* was warbling On its branches A strange big bird with round beak Came over there To eat Mulberry’s sweet fruits The bird was expert In changing its colors Like the colorful sky But like some arrogant child She could not make anyone It’s friend on the Mulberry tree. By the time Anyone could have spotted its beauty It suddenly changed its colors And became invisible, Before others While hiding behind the leafs And the branches of the Mulberry Alone the bird came over there And alone she flew away Without any friend For some other tree. 10 Suddenly, The sparrows began to chirp Watching a Koyal* sitting Somewhere very close to them On a nearby branch of a tree. But, strangely, for all of them A Neelkanth* also Came over there And opened before them Its beautiful blue color wings. From where the Neelkanth came And for what destination, It would leave no one knows. Before the eyes Could have feasted fully All that, beauties of the Birds And the beauty, All around, the Mulberry tree A Yellow Green bird Came to drink, Water filled in a Pot Which was lying on my terrace, Not very far off From the Mulberry tree. 11 In those moments It seemed to me, As if, someone has opened A treasure Of precious, colorful birds For the tree. 12 The Shahtoot*, Used to play often The Music Of flapping sound, Of its leafs Whenever, the wind blows With, its strengths, While, touching the leafs And shaking its branches While saying slowly In the ears of the Mulberry “Dear Shahtoot – Create Music in the air” So that, we may dance together On the tunes of the wind. 13 And then the Mulberry Began to show Its beautiful dance On the tunes Of the fast blowing winds And watching that dancing beauty Of the Mulberry tree And the beauty Of its dancing leafs, The birds Often used to get filled With an unknown Happiness and joy But, sometimes The dance of the Mulberry tree Causes fear in birds And then they began to make Loud noises like crying To show their fear and anger. 14 But, when they were happy The birds began, to chirp loudly As if, They were greeting, the Mulberry For such a wonderful dance and music. 15 I used to get astonished and lost To see, Such an excellent beauty And grandeur of Nature Which, always reminds me My relations with you, O’ Shahtoot, which is as old, As are the days, of my childhood When we used to play Kilkil Kaantaa* On the lower branches, of your tree And my childhood friends Used to come like birds Searching the chalk lines Made by me, on your branches And cutting them To tell that they have found The treasure, hidden by me. 16 But, I always feel sad O’ my dear friend, Shahtoot That I could not save you From those onslaughts Due to which You just vanished, Suddenly one day For ever and forever. 17 Now, that place Where, the Mulberry used to smile Every Morning and every day Hardly get any birds To listen to, the melodies of Koyal* And the chirping sound And music of Bulbul* and of the sparrows. Even our, kids and children Of today Hardly get, any opportunity To see now colorful birds Flying and sitting On a branch of tree. They almost never see The Neelkanth* flying in the air While showing, it’s gorgeous Beautiful blue wings To tell the story of its birth O’ my dear friend Shahtoot*. 18 But, perhaps This Poem on you, O’ my friend ‘Shahtoot’ Would make you immortal For ever Because, now you would live In the hearts of everyone And you would bloom On the mind and hearts Of little kids and children Who would plant more and more Mulberry trees So that colorful birds may Keep coming on their trees And they may enjoy The beauty of Nature which lies In Plants, Trees, Birds And Animals. Such efforts of the Of kids and children Would make you immortal For ever and forever When they would listen to This story of yours And of the singing birds Which always come On your trees In the season of Mulberry. 19 Ravindra Kanpur India 10th November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. *Bulbul=A sweet singing Bird of India *Koyal= A melody Bird of India Shahtoot= The Hindi name of Mulberry tree and its fruits *Kilkil Kaantaa= Kilkil Kaantaa* A child game of India in which,one player makes some lines by chalk on any such object which can be searched by the other player to cut these lines and win. Note: In this Poem I have not placed only a small part of this unique story which would be the real attractions of my Video based on this unique story.Hope you would like that full wonderful story of my Video as and when it would be placed on my You Tube Channel. Love and best wishes..Ravindra K Kapoor

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

A Police Man's Grave

No Loitering, Skating, Skateboarding or Cycling.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epitaph Poem | |


I suffer
I suffer in the shadows of empty clouds
Sorrow consumes the very essence of who I am
Evil lives, yet beauty dies, why? Why not me?
Her words brightened the world
A woman I will never know
Has left me sad
That life was stolen
The devils work is never done
Her heart is penned in poetic verse
To live on, so that we may all remember
The brightness of her smiles
The kindness of her heart
Late in the night, I read verse after verse and verse
A tear I do shed in silence
For the woman I never knew
Her heart lives on in whimsical prose
I lay down in her memory this red sweet rose

Notes:  Dedicated to Linda-Marie Sweetheart of Poetry Soup
At the time I did not know her struggles, and yet here she was full of
kindness to us all here. Let us never forget the angels who walk 
amongst us. God bless.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

(a peculiar christ)

the dead man does 
no justice, 
and yet he sees fit 
to bask in his own 
perceived lack 
of glory,

for one without 
he remains receptive,
idly ignoring the 
calamitous claims 
of those who have 
yet to die,

he remains,
if only for a promise,
a covenant of 
grandiose reckoning,
a covenant of truth,

he remains, 
a dead man,

(a peculiar christ)

Copyright © William Ward | Year Posted 2008

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

The Mulberry Tree And its Birds One of Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN BASED ON A TRUE STORY IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL : The Mulberry Tree & its Birds My Mulberry tree, in its season Used to get loaded With its sweet, Mulberry fruits. To eat these sweet fruits Birds of different colors and species From even far off places Used to come to eat And to play, on its branches. Watching these lovely birds When they eat Its sweet fruits and play Was a joy for the Mulberry Which can, only be felt If you ever see the Mulberry When it is loaded With its fruits and birds In the, season of Shahtoot* . 01 The birds, used to come To stretch, their colorful wings Sometimes, to show their beauty And sometimes, to show their Their affection for the tree, But, when they were In the company, of their friends And soul mates They used to sing, some lovely songs For the Mulberry tree. 02 Seasons come and seasons go The buds of yesterday, becomes A blooming flower of today As, life keep rolling With the change of time But even, in the season of Fast blowing winds The Mulberry tree remains Spreading, its smiles, Like, an innocent child. 03 Only, in the season of falls When it use to shed its leafs The tree, Becomes, sad and lonely For a while. 04 But soon again, the tree Becomes happy and smiling When, birds return And come, to Joy fully play On its, thick and thin branches The game of love and affection While singing, their songs In praise, of the Mulberry tree. 05 Hearing those Lovely sweet voices and Singing of different birds Seems very familiar sometimes But sometimes, They seem so alien To me. 06 It was not easy to understand What, these birds say and sing In their sweet lovely language and words But one thing was clear That they used to tell, The Mulberry tree That they would come again soon To eat, its sweet fruits And to sing songs For that lovely Shahtoot* Full of fruits. 07 Today, while searching and looking Towards that side of the sky Where, the Mulberry tree Used to spread, its smiles Every morning and everyday The birds find only, A blank space in the sky And they go away Sadly from there To some other place In search of a New Mulberry tree. Those colorful birds, Who used to show their presence While, playing and jumping Up and down, when they skip On the branches, Of the Mulberry tree While singing Their sweet lovely Songs, Have almost fled away For some unknown place Forever and forever. 08 Those birds Often, used to get lost In their sweet singing voices And lovely notes Which were very dear To their soul mates . 09 Ravindra Kanpur India 1st November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. To be concluded in 2nd * Shahtoot = Mulberry

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph Poem | |


I was lost, I've been found, I was hunted, I've been downed, 
Heard the screams of the whale when the harpoon has hit 
Seen the burned out congregations when the fuses were lit 
All the fury in war's faces and I'm sick to death of it... 
I need space, I need time, show me mercy, cleanse my mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

I've been taken, I've been used, I've been shaken, I've been bruised 
Felt that look of despair in the infant's eye 
At the wrench of departure in the bittersweet goodbye 
All this cruelty in mankind just makes me want to fly
I need space, I need time, show me mercy, cleanse my mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

I was blinkered, I've been blind, had deep heartache blitzing my mind 
Seen rich lunatics shooting all the birds in the sky 
The crating up of dogs sentenced needlessly to die 
Drowned babies on some shoreline and I sit and wonder why. 

I need space, I need time, show me mercy, cleanse my mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

I can dream I may see better times for you and me 
Somewhere warm somewhere loving where we all live happily
In a place where our spirits and joyful hearts run free 
And we all pull together for peace, humanity... 

I need space, I need time, show me mercy, cleanse my mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more.


Thank you for reading this.


Copyright © Louis Spence | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

My Epitaph Will Read...

Here lies Deadline Devonshire, tardiness she did abhor
     Her editor will tell you, "She was never late before"

Her sister laid claim to the gene pool’s beauty and brains
     Carolyn took credit for writing verse that’s inane

Believed in reincarnation; wasn't Cleopatra
     She merely adopted "been there, done that" as her mantra

She was the first to acknowledge her imperfection
     But writing her own epitaph?  Too much self-reflection!

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

My Father

I miss you dad every single day
The wonderful Times I remember 
Are the times we spent together going 
To dinner and church
The times I will cherish always on this earth
Your gentle ways and smiles and hugs
Made Life worthwhile for this is true
Forever you are missed in my heart and soul
But the forever is Heaven and you are there basking
In the Light of the Lord
I miss you dad and loved you so much 
But eternity is yours to no longer hurt
Cancer is what took you far too soon
I am always remembering your hugs and 
I loved you so much too.
Eternity is there for you now and forever
Remember I love you and Kisses from here
to you in the forever they call Heaven from earth

Copyright © Laurel Larison | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Harvey Denning 1909-1923

Harvey Denning

1909 – 1923

“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
I saw the face of God
Spread out across the sky
Like a million cities on fire.
Like Troy cut into little pieces
By the slashing sword of Achilles.
Cut to shreds and bleeding.
There on the ramparts
There inside the fissures and crevices
Of ten thousand unknown dreams.
I read the stories of Homer
And the tales of a thousand and one Arabian nights.
And I read the solemnly immortal words
Of Longfellow, Poe and Defoe.
And I decided inside my mind long before I died
To perhaps write the greatest story ever told.
But I fell from my tree house
There on Dorland Street
There in the cool shadows of the walnut tree.
What would have been my story I wonder.
What visions would I have conjured
For all to read and envision?
My friend, will you write my story now?
Will you take pen in hand and possess my voice?
Will you find the noble courage to speak for me?
This forgotten dead soul
Buried here in the dark dust of Clark Cemetery?
If you kindly consent,
Please begin it with these words:
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”

Copyright © stark hunter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Ella Hyde 1857-1898

Ella Hyde

1857- 1898

That cad with the freckle on his forehead,
That rascal man beast,
Handsome as a Greek
But devastatingly insecure,
And so deliciously young!
He was the one who stole my pride,
There, behind the Hadley tombstone in the moonlight,
And who, 
Breathlessly and with trembling hands,
Unlatched the ruby red necklace
From around my naked neck that night.   
It was he.
That cad who swooped down upon my innocence,
Like a maniacal Zeus
In one of his crazy costumes of concupiscence,
And carried me off to nights of brazen episodes,
Splendid spectacles in light and magic,
Of him and me embracing wildly, madly,
In dreamy dances with caresses and kisses. 
Only the truly passionate 
Could understand these mad scenes in the dark!
I met RS on many a night 
In the long concealing shadows of Central Park.
He was my man, but he didn’t know it. 
I lived my life here in this dusty town the best I could.
I believe I left my mark in some small but universal way.
At least I knew when to say no to Roscoe Settle.
Now I’d like to go back to my grave and sleep.
I am tired of this rant about The Man Beast.
At 41 I entered here after my bout with diphtheria.
The trees here are my shadowy friends now.
But I sometimes secretly wish I could meet RS.
Just as it was in 1897,
He and I kissing in the garden Gazebo at Central Park,
His hand on the small of my back.
Me trembling with monstrous want,
My ultimate Prince.
Who lied to me like a rat!

Copyright © stark hunter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epitaph Poem | |



Copyright © leroy morton | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

The Tribute To Jennifer

                          The Tribute To Jennifer

In a small church on a hill, there are a group of people standing
in silence as they say goodbye to a loved one, who they will all miss.
We will start this tale from the beginning, it was nearing Christmas
And Jennifer and her friends were partying at her house, everything
was going fine, the turkey in the oven and the stockings set for Santa's
Visit, the mother and father went out, so they could all have a good time
As the evening progressed Jimmy, Jennifer's boyfriend said they needed
Some more drinks, so he wanted Jennifer to come with him to the bottle
Shop, she decided to go with him while the rest of the crowd partied on.
They got in the car and travelled down the road about two kilometres
As they were approaching the traffic lights, a car pulls alongside them
 Jimmy was an impulsive type who loved the challenge to a road race,
But they were both unaware what was to happen next, as the intruding
Car pushes through the lights, they both excellerate into the night by 
Now they were speeding around 80kph, they are followed by a police car
So they both go faster, the intruder flees to the right while Jimmy tries 
To stop but the brakes fail, causing the car to vere off the road crashing
Into a light pole, Jimmy's face is lacerated, but when he looks towards 
Jennifer, she is badly hurt, the policeman calls for an ambulance to take
His girlfriend to hospital, he is taken to the police station to make a 
Statement and to later see his girlfriend at the hospital, however the 
Telephone rings to tell Jimmy that Jennifer had passed away, Jimmy was 
Found to have a large blood alcohol reading and was arrested; they
Let Jimmy out to go to Jennifer's funeral, Jimmy felt so guilty about
What he had done, he has lost his wonderful girlfriend over being so
Foolish while driving the car, his Christmas was blackened and he would
Never forgive himself for what he had done, on the day of the funeral
He broke down into tears along with his family and friends as they all
Left the cemetary in the church, very saddened at the loss of Jennifer.
This is her story and the moral to it is to never drink and always
Be responsible when you are driving a car, this is the tribute to Jennifer.

Copyright © John Ginesi | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph Poem | |


Once smooth
and lush,
the flesh 
has turned
to mush
as if Time
accepts its 
duty to
make 'pretty'

Who said 
we have 
to exit with 
a murmur
not a shout--
No fireworks
for the final 
Out? Nyet, 
nyet, I do 
not accept.

Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Epitaph For A Common Man

Will you leave this life
Without a murmur or a whimper
Be cast down to the depths below
In a hallowed tomb of timber

You did not exit stage left
To the sound of thunderous applause
Or the scream of heavy bombardment
Or some tearing tiger claws

To all the men who slipped away, unnoticed
Here is ye're epitaph
We looked at the world with unblinking eyes
And all we could do was laugh

Copyright © Robert Ptolemy | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

My Billy

My Billy.

My Billy, bravest of the brave,
Fought metal tooth and iron cross.
Through Flanders field of bleedin’ red
And on to mourn their loss.

My Billy, full of life and love,
A boy still to his Mam,
Left far behind these cobbled shores
To fight the beast in man.

This trench, this tomb, this hellish hell.
No mortal eye should see.
My Billy, broken limb from life,
Lies far away from me.

One hundred years, one million tears,
One memory thought anew,
My Billy, bravest of the brave,
Gave freedom back to you.

Copyright © Wayne Riley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epitaph Poem | |


Wish I could have taken better 
Care of my body... 
Wish they could have stopped 
the cancer sooner... 

I'm just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 

If I had my way, I'd pick another church. 
At least one that spelled my name right 
On the obituary. 

I wonder if they knew, 
That I truly loved Sonya, 
but married Adele out of convenience. 

Wish I could have told my brother, Kenny 
I forgive him, maybe he wouldnt cry so hard. 
Wish I could tell Aunt May that hat is too big. 
I wonder if Tara knows the deacons 
Are looking up her dress. 

Im just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 

I wonder if the choir knows 
How much I really hate that song... 
Hope they know the Pastor's lying. 
I was not that good of a man.. 

That suit is not the one I would have picked. 
My body looks so much smaller, 
and that make-up makes me look too light. 

Im just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 
Free from pain, free from it all. 

Wonder if they know, 
In spite of my short time on this earth...
i truly enjoyed it.
I truly loved it all.

Copyright © dennis lee | Year Posted 2006

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Counting Buttons

For Contest: The Crosses In Your Eyes 

When I was wee tall you sat me on your knee to cant the past  
I in kicking patent shoes did count the buttons of your molle vest    
You puffed your sweet cigar my way & filled the air with haze to drop all cold   
And I in jest did tug a smoky beard, I saw you cringe in feign and laugh away 
Together we did tuck a memory or two, 
of long dust days of comrades bayonet's of Woo 
When braving stories fell like chalky sturds of white atop you're aging hair, 
I sunk em' in my head and clipped them to my heart;
Each loving repertoire was you... 
Each loving repertoire was you... 
Yes from the kitchen came the smell of coffee's burnt mesquite 
While grandma's putter shoes went to and fro,
she finger twisted dough and powdered low;        
It was that same old bentwood rocking chair,
the one stained umber and chai-me-brown  in lieu;   
The one where granny rocked inside, the day he upped n' died; 
Back then I watched you through a fringe of hair,
and felt the oddity of people I had never met with stare 
I didn't have a care, no I didn't have a care  
Except when tired eyes of blue stood silent and forlorn 
then all the world just flew, beneath the pain you bore;
When "he" you're baby boy did go away to war, 
you died a bit alongside him, you soul in-tore:   
I saw it in you're eyes each time you passed his soldier room, 
Guess I could count the countless crosses in your eyes 
swifter then the brazen buttons of you're faded vest; 
Each loving tear that dropped anew 
Each loving tear that dried up too  
Until the rocking chair was re-possessed 
And then,                          I grew.....

Copyright © Mystic Rose | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Belva Berry 1889-1905

Belva Berry

1889 - 1905         

I truly never asked to be born.
I truly never wanted any of this.
But what choice did I have?
What choice does any one of us have?
With our first breath
We begin our long slow descent into the darkness.
With our last breath
We end this long steady slide 
From nothing to nothing
From dust to dust.
I was the girl who lived in the corner house
Over on Newlin and Broadway streets.
I was the shy freckled daughter
Of Lunetta and James Berry.
And I was the unknown silent witness
To the crushing tragic tumble
Of my secret esoteric friend, Elvin.
Elvin Allen.
Elvin and me walked hand in hand
To the eastern hills that day.
Elvin and me stared into each other’s eyes and smiled that day.
And Elvin and me dared to dance on the sweet oily dirt that day.
There in the midst of the black fields,
The land of the black oil machines
That rise high like chess pieces
The Bishops of industry and money!
We kissed that day
And it was our first kiss.
And then, he climbed up the ladder there.
I saw him fall,
Fall like a falcon from the heavens.
And I knew he was gone.
Please forgive me God for running away.
Please forgive me God for never telling anyone
Of the first kiss, our kiss,
That long ago day in the black fields
In the eastern hills
Of this Quaker town.                    

Copyright © stark hunter | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epitaph Poem | |


From the school of life, she passed with honor.

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2006

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Everyone Has To Go

If you were looking for me 
I had to go.
God was calling you see
and I couldn't say no.
Don't be sad 
it's a happy day.
Just be glad
we had yesterday.
We had some fun 
and we had some laughs.
But it's not done.
Not by half.
God called me
but I'm still here.
You just can't see
but I'm with you dear.
I'll be watching over you
and I'll love you forever.
So what ever you do
don't ever say never.
I'll see you again.
God told me so.
Good-bye now my friend.
Everyone has to go.

Copyright © Allan Granstrom | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Bees-Trees-and Seas

I stopped to smell the roses I got stung by a bee

Weird as it might seem that made me so happy

For the bees they are a dying it seems something is wrong

If those bees keep dying we won’t be here very long

I know I could just blithely continue down this road

Refuse to be responsible, refuse to carry my load

But isn’t that exactly what led us to this place?

Where we are grimly facing the end of the human race

I know I could keep writing about the rising of the seas

The millions confined in poverty and the dying of the trees

Oh the subjects they are endless this truth that we must face

However self glorification causes us to move at slothful pace

I guess it is more pleasant staring at yesterday and fail to see tomorrow 

And the price that we will pay…sadness sadness they refuse to listen,
And when told they refuse to listen, they refuse to listen.

So to you I wish to say…I love you and goodbye

Copyright © Gregory Cox | Year Posted 2011

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Whispers Of An Angry Wind

With blaring voice, You've stolen her life away. I think, My heart shall ne'er mend. Caused you the trees to snap, And sway. Now the softness of your voice, Scarcely causes the grass to bend.

Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2006

Details | Epitaph Poem | |

Death Gone Bad

To be cast into the abyss
   With-out so much
As a Spirit attached
    Is an Obituary


    *When you are cast into the abyss, with-out a Spirit OR Soul being  attached,
      That mean's that you are already dead!  The next step called for is to "the Obituary".

       ******* Follow me on facebook@mediancircle131********

Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2011