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A ***** a *****
A gravekeeper by trade
burying the dead to stay alive
with a green thumb and *****
the unused earth oh how it strives!
Fat tubers and roots
green leaves with red veins
small vines sprouting fruits
even a small section for grains
The gravekeeper never goes hungry
his family never starves
he loves living in the country
and his plot of earth that he carves
One day two fresh dead
and a rat, maybe two scampered by
soon a sickness to be widespread
day by day how that multiplied!
More bodies into the earth
how did his garden shrink
he was crying and crying
this gravekeeper didn't know what to think!
Should he be happy for business
should he be sad for the loss
is he crying for his vegetables
or is he crying for the bodies that are tossed
Little by little did the green become stone
his loved ones feast on a diet of worms
now he, a lonely gardener of bones
sits and watches as his world burns
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