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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The missing of people who dies as they are being buried.

Submitted: August 20, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 20, 2017



Today we bury the dead

But I promise we’ll not meet again

Of course you don’t believe what I said

We’ll meet. But when?


Today others die

But not us, we’ll thrive

We won’t do like others and lie

We’ll survive


Survive we will our siblings

When go they must before us

We’ll watch age take its nibbling

We know what’s in store for us


We think we know the truth

Because truth is in numbers

We overbore the same in youth

But we can’t take it in slumber


A memory floats like a cloud

Symbol of summer or a rainstorm

Tears manifest memories ploughed

With a smile to sooth the storm


Now the numbers theory diminishes

There’s only one after three or four

All human count somehow finishes

Those who craved for less, crave for more


Today we bury the dead

The best part of ourselves alive

We followed the life they led

Which pride? To dive or survive?

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