Gray and pallor in color,
Somber like no other,
A gravestone commemorates
What is lost and gone.
So every time I pass a graveyard,
I lose myself
In staring respectfully
At every
Gravestone.
But sometimes the pain is
Too much to bear,
So it's nice when the snow falls
And covers everything
In a haze of pure white
Forgetfulness;
And when you can't see
The gravestone anymore,
You know
That nature is covering what is
Lost and dead,
And bringing about
The new life soon
With less of the horrific dread.
But you'll never forget
Where that gravestone
Is,
Because your empty shell of a
Loved one
Lies beneath it.
YOU ARE READING
Graveyard Tales
Poetry"Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them." ~George Eliot
