Born To Mourn Poem by Francie Lynch

Born To Mourn



I'm a born mourner;
Not a whimperer,
Or whiner;
Don't cry for me,
Don't worry for me.
Let me mourn.
Although an orphan,
A singleton,
I'm better off
Than all the dead poets,
Stacked one atop the other,
Babel high.
When that high,
It's a sudden drop.
If somethings human
Should locate
Forty percent of my bones
Sometime down their road,
Then you can worry about me.

Thursday, April 23, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: alive,archaeology,bones,complain,cry,crying,death,future,human being,human condition
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Francie Lynch

Francie Lynch

Monaghan, Ireland
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