Passing by the Headstones

passing by the headstones I read each name…

i don’t btoher looking at the dates, just the names matter to me…

Emily...Scott...Steven…

the unending rows upon rows disturb me

the eerie silence both soothing and ominous

Keith...Sarah...Helen…

they’re all the same here

all six feet under

all gone

yet...i still feel an air about the ground here as if I could feel their energy that was left behind, or perhaps their orah

David...Samantha...Debra…

I could swear I could hear the sounds of their laughter, feel the warmth of their smiles and the comfort of their presence…

Donald...Riley...Spencer….

is it possible to miss people you have never met?

feel a connection to the soul itself, still lingering around a box of bones and maggots until it can find its way back to the beginning?

recycling energy and life to our world…

Christina...Corey...Franklin…

without the hustle of the busy world we live in

without the flashing lights and glossy ads trying to drag us through a never ending cycle of self hatred and egotistical boasting....#identitycrisis #saveme

Kelly....Nathaniel...Joshua…

isn’t this what we all want...to be seen for our soul and missed for our simple exhistance here on earth?

Timothy...Susan...Anita…

why is it that we only get to appreciate the soul, mistakes and flaws included, when we are six foot under?

why does it take death to appreciate life?

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741