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A Sight Too Sad
I walked the cemetary grounds and saw
the names engraved on stones.
I knew underneath the dark green grass
lay old and brittle bones.
How they died it did not say
just that they had gone away
on a certain date, now long forgot.
All of the stones a sorry lot.
Few had flowers. Most had naught.
Some were planted anew.
But most were desolate on the ground.
Their visitations all were through.
Who were these brave souls that had lived?
I would never know.
I walked the stones that lay in rows,
pacing to and fro.
I came upon a stone so sad
turned upon its side.
I picked it up and righted it,
looked and then I cried.
It belonged to a baby that died too soon
and never got to see
a smile on my face when she was born
when she was taken from me.
Cemetary grounds are repositories
and never do they tell
where the ones that are buried there
now reside and dwell.
So, I now don't venture to these grounds.
They make me feel too low.
Would it not be better to cremate the bodies
and let their ashes blow?
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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