Cemetery

January 28, 2012
This place is a cemetery
And when I depart
I will cover it all in a layer of white paint, then dirt
And plant seeds
So one day grass may grow
And children who stumble upon it
Will not be afraid of the bodies below
But rather see a beautiful hill where they can play

This place is a cemetery
And when I depart
I will take with me shoes I can walk in
A book of poems I know by heart
And read for comfort anyway
I will take everything I own and everything I am
And pack myself up in a suitcase
And walk in a straight line without turning back

This place is a cemetery
And when I depart
Those that are here, the living and the dead
Shall not hear of me again
Through letters or visits
But perhaps
If I become renowned in another, far-away place
They will hear tales of me
And they will wonder at how far I have come

This place is a cemetery
And when I depart
It shall be for good
I shall not return when I die
Because cemeteries are not for the living or the dead
And I don't wish to sleep among the graves





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Missy1999 said...
Mar. 11, 2012 at 8:41 pm
You're writing is really mature and impressive:) I'm still working on mine:p
 
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