Standing in front of my own grave
Standing in front of my own grave
Walk in the cemetery is a beautiful time killing
This a fascinating study of the life, and the past
Yes, this is true, all cemeteries are part of life
But people hate from the graveyards. But why?
There is no answer to this why? question. Why?
Is a cemetery disgusting? A garden of the past?
A garden of olds’ lives? We must respect them
They built our world, civilizations, and cultures
Yes, I think so. Our ancestors fought for our life
So many wars in our present’s past, died lives
These lives in the cemeteries, in the graveyards
They are alone, they suffering; people don’t mind
Our past neighbors are heroes, all the man and…
all the women; live now, the same as you and me
Yes, but nobody thinks about them. But why? Why?
All graves are flowerless and unkempt. Sad reality
Yes, people forget those people who gave the life
But past see us. We walk without gifts in the cemetery
Our past lives just want only one rose on the grave
I remembered my past life, I found my tomb; old new
A name
Mine
A mother
I know
I took
There
Red
Roses
Mother
Remember
Your life
Two
Lifes
Ago
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
