Epitaph

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 06, 2018

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Submitted: August 06, 2018

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Epitaph

All I see is clear as day,

donned the clouds, a smear of grey.

Every crowd with all its people,

each are wearied, tired people.

 

Sundry times of wasted breath,

of wasteful hearts and hurried steps,

leave us stranded among the caves

in which we wander-wonder

in that stony maze.

 

A haze, a maze, another year gone away.

the truth of life is at the mortals’ bend,

to dance and drink

till our last lament.

 

Apart we go,

at last we go,

name marked headstone

to the Earth we go.


© Copyright 2018 Margaret Timmerman. All rights reserved.

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