Twenty Four Reasons To Die
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The roses of September the first
They know the dance is almost over
Slowly the life shall bleed from the stem
Beauty shall wilt
The winds shall blow away the memories
Bagpipers four deep and six long
Shall march upon botanical grounds
In remembrance of those brave souls long ago
Stoic the march, the notes lingering in the air
Falling on the deaf ears, of the already departed
Two swords laid as the cross
Highland dances of youth,
Old photographs lieing burned in the trash
Marching forth, to old peoples applause
They march towards their own death
Overlook there, over the sea, look closer
Shall you see the dust that covers me?
Twenty four reasons to die
Yet here I am on the twenty fifth
Wishing for only one
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2015
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