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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #298524 |
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Monument Builders
It sits alone In an overgrown field At the side of the road. Ignored by the speeding traffic, It marks a site of death. Faded to colorlessness, The artificial-flower cross, Now many months old, leans against A vigil light, long dark. A plastic toy - The one lost here was a child. It marks a place of sorrow. Hearts were marked here, The broken hearts of the Monument builders.
© Copyright 2001 Eddie Edwards (UN: geneva2 at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Eddie Edwards has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |