Sad - Poem by Orlando Belo
The ground hugging mist blends into the morning sky,
as I look across the cemetery.
The ornate tombs and grave stone markers,
remind me of my own mortality.
The bones of the departed are laid to rest,
without warmth or company.
No grief, or thoughts of those still living,
no tears of regret or sympathy.
Those at rest have become our history;
statistics of a bygone age.
Old photographs in family albums
are now strangers on a page.
It's so sad, so cruel, and unfortunate
that we all are born to die.
Yet so many leave this world too soon
having not given life a try.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You