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Jun 2014
Near the road a cemetery bloomed
in the ancient noon day light
An old man stood to his task
of tending graves each night

He had spent his youth working
too afraid to spend emotion
Took all he could from everyone
but gave no love to the devotion

Romance was not his forte
he practiced disdain for mankind
Hardly giving love to another
closed away his heart and mind

Thinking life to be a race
he had pushed his way along
Took from the world no pleasure
he whistled but heard no song

Now retired and long lived
he thought himself to be paid
To have outlived all the others
was reward for plans he'd made

As he looked to stones he tended
for all those he'd known in life
An old dream ached in his chest
for words written to his wife

She had once been his true love
the only one he had known
Lost to another in his youth
he was aged, but never grown

Now his tears water her grave
stones of family, oh so few
The dreams of lost love fading
wonders of life he never knew

Called to rest some time ago
he lies cold among his peers
A shadow on winter's night
walks the graveyard of his tears


Tate
Original poem with accompanying music and pictures
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/447411/
What is a life for? If we cower from truly living are the extra years truly living?
Tate Morgan
Written by
Tate Morgan
708
   betterdays and Pure LOVE
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