I wander around this desolate place
Glancing over my shoulder watching for Him
But there is no one around, only the dead
And they seemed not to mind my presence
Crumbling concrete masquerades around my shadow
Highlighting the empty, negative spaces
Strangers assemble together without annoyance
Packed into a lot designated for the forgotten
A public mass resonates at the edge
Assembling in remembrance of a dreadful tragedy
Moving closer, I see the mound of fresh dirt
And see my name that will eternally live in this cemetery
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Don't jump in before your cold.