PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I walked through a graveyard

not to long ago

there was mist here and there

the graves dusted with snow

and I wondered about the people

who now quietly slept

how they lived out their lives

and what they had felt

some were old and archaic

some were almost brand new

there were flowers at some

gently kissed by the dew

some had long been forgotten

overun by the weeds

the song of lost love

or the outcome of greed

the morning was breaking

with it's soft spiders webs

so the old gate I opened

and took leave of them