04-03-2007, 11:48 PM
I was walking along a quiet placeReply
Lots of weeds and graves I face
Flowers grow peacefully with grace
Six feet under, they await their case
Each grave there, has a story to tell
Of the time they're alive and well
Of the living earth, they did dwell
Of the time they rose or fell
They saw the sun set at the shore
Birds fly high, they heard and saw
Their families, they all cared for
Like us, they're once alive before
Love and loved, they once felt the glow
LIFE. They're there, not too long ago
But now they're dead and buried below
Graves tell their stories, row by row
Depends on their faith, low or high
The dead may smile or painfully cry
Now six feet under, alone they lie
It's the beginning for those who die...
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