Your identity erased
from the face
of a tilted stone
How long has it been?
Since you got visitors,
If any.
How old were you?
How did you die?
Passerbys can only guess
your story.
Family too poor
for a decent stone
To weather the decades?
Perhaps you outlived
your family,
alone at the end
no one to bury you except
The Morticians and few that pitied you.
Perhaps, they were shamed
by an act or lifestyle
not standard of society.
Perhaps you committed a crime
or were the one
left to rot
on the side of a road.
Had a passerby from time to time
given you a rose
or a daisy
or a Narcissus?
Perhaps Mother Nature
allowed dandelions
or wild flowers to grow
to make up for erasing your name.
One thing is certain,
that weathered stone
is a marker of a body buried.
Proof you were once
Alive.
About the Creator
R.R.Hannaman
I have been writing a lot of stories and poems for a long time. It is nice to have a place to share it. I like to write about varying topics in my poem. I am constantly working on my world building and stories about my world Avaboya.
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