Epitaph Poem by Donald Benson Blanding

Epitaph



Do not carve on stone or wood,
'He was honest' or 'He was good.'
Write in smoke on a passing breeze
Seven words… and the words are these,
Telling all that a volume could,
'He lived, he laughed and… he understood.'
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Friday, July 22, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: words
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