Friday

The Cemetery

I like to take a walk,
in the cemetery by the road,
where daffodils grow
with epitaphs and crosses.

They know what names
they must bear. And what
say they must about their dead man.

People need a voice,
even the dead ones.
After all has ceased
and everything is absolutely right
something must be said.
The epitaph does that.

5 comments:

Marukatsu said...

Nice poem!
Have a nice day!

Sagar said...

Marukatsu~ Thanks. :)

Megha Chhatbar said...

It is so touching...Nice one..:) BTW Sagar I have started a new blog dedicated to my sketch work — Art on Sketchbook

Fingers said...

memories need a voice too :)

Sagar said...

Fingers~ :)

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