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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1301376
Poem, A Snowy Grave
On top of the snow covered hill
The wind howls loud with a cold chill
Here we find a lone snow covered grave
Barely visible, almost encased
It seems to have been long ago forgot
Of the poor soul who lies within this plot
Was it someone great that lived quite well?
Or was it someone whose life was in a cell?
Did they have a family or many friends?
Did they ever get to make amends?
Were they respected and well known?
Were they rejected and disowned?
What was it they left behind?
Riches galore or a huge debt bind?
Why did they die, was it foul play?
Or did their own ignorance get in the way?
Who was this person, does it really matter?
In death everyone is the same, ashes scatter.
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