The Grave Digger Poem by Darren Harris

Hear the spade as it enters the soil,
The grave digger sweats as he toils,
Six feet down into the ground,
With every thrust there’s that sound,

A resting place for someone,
A mother, father, daughter or son,
Around the top tears will be cried,
As they lay to rest the one who’s died,

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
The coffin is covered to rot and rust,
The body is left to decay,
To rot away day after day,
The head stone lets you know who’s there,
And that one day someone did care.