Sad - Poem by Orlando Belo
The ground hugging mist blends into the morning sky,
as I look across the cemetery.
The ornate tombs and the plain grave markers,
quickly remind me of my own mortality.
The bones of the departed are laid to rest,
without any warmth or company.
No grief, or thoughts of those alive,
no tears of regret, or sympathy.
Those at rest are a part of history;
statistics of a bygone age.
Old photographs in family albums,
have become strangers on a page.
It's so sad, so cruel, and unfortunate
that we all are born to die.
Yet so many leave this world too soon
having not given life a try.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
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