Different sizes different shapes some of granite
some of stone
Standing with many but feeling
alone
Family and friends slowly drift
away
In the cemetery a brand new
grave
Like a magnet we are drawn back
again
We remember well when this life
began
Looking around at all the tombstones some are old
some are new
The tears shed here more than
a few
Suddenly like a rushing
wind
A flood of memories rush
in
Memories and tears emotions not
contained
We remember well when this child was
named
Buried here the young and
old
None can escape deaths strong
hold
Herbert Dry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem