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Peaceful Graveyard

Poetry By: the dead poet

i dont now what to say in a summary,poems speaks for there self i guess.

Submitted:Jul 11, 2010    Reads: 208    Comments: 14    Likes: 7   

The tenderness, in the graveyard,
the perfect place for a writers touch,
so calm, with the harmony of souls
playing so elegantly in to the night.
the way the wind shifts and clatters
with each echoing sound.
the place where flowers bloom
in the fields of darkness and death,
and the trees weep and cry humming
a similar tune.with the wind blowing
dupree from the earth, scattering
the elements across the landscape.
the animals seem to flack to the dead
a honest place to bed there head,
with out the annoyance of humans in sight,
the evilness is beneath the soil.
the place in the graveyard
that shall not be tainted by the living.
like the rest of the world!

I seem to admire the irony,

how things can blossom in death,

and bloom in darkness,

and the sun still rises and falls the same way,

no changes in good or misfortune,

alive or dead,well or in panic,

i know people complain of suicide

begging for affection or attention,

but stop and listen to the souls in the wind

playing in the night with harmony and conviction,

in there lost innocence,

maybe they envy the living.try to take

a lesson from the dead, life is short,

love your self and admire the dead.

we all will have a plot in the graveyard someday,

that's are only common ground that we share!


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