The corpse of
W. Wilson,
Failure;
Like an old Asphodel in a wintery meadow,
With its petals wilting and falling away,
A lifetime of regret lurking in its somber shadows,
Here lies the useless remains of a failure.
But there's still a chance for redemption:
In a place far away, as he believed, there's a new place to live and thrive, in a better and more understanding world.
He was born Nov. 24, 1997
And he lived forever in sinful memory.
YOU ARE READING
A Failure's Epitath (2015)
PoetryThis was a school paper I had to write believe it or not lol and this is just the actual epitaph that I wrote.
