Who Guides This Hand?
grave, grave
cold and grey
awaiting my bones
to rest some day
forlorn faces
at graveside weep
unaware- I am not asleep
I stand among you
unseen, for sure
but my life-force continues,
it does endure
the impressions I have left-
will fade fast with time-
they always do
but you're not alone-
I'm always there with you
the words are written
by those unseen hands
only they can jot
these penciled words
for I have not...
Hand guided by those
long since gone
admidst the mists of time-
forlorn
for they are not upon
one's mind. alas, no more,
their death, their stillness
of this I'm sure
these penciled words
they call out to you
for a moments reflection,
you know that they do
to mourn, to cherish
to remember oh, so well
I know not more I must go on
I must endure
this pain of seperation now
someday will surely fade
of this I trust-
as surely as my bones-
shall one day turn to dust.
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.
