A stack of stones or brick set
in place
Their identities hidden from
our face
Walking through the cemetery I find nothing
there to tell me of their
time
No names or dates are recorded
there
Where they came from we know
not where
No flowers on their grave do
I see
Their only visitor is
just me
Who are these people that time
has forgot
No family or friends to visit
this spot
There's a feeling of loneliness that fills
the air
In the land of the living no one
to care
There was a time at this spot loved
one's once stood
They gathered here and did the best
they could
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem