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by Skyler
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Death · #1750565
About how poetry lives on like our legacies while our bodies wither and fade.
Death cannot be bad
For I now bury these
Words on the death
Of thousands of trees
And the words are alive
And so shall live on
While I am still here
And long after I'm gone

And like a eulogy,
Exact words may be forgot
And exact bodies withered;
Buried to rot
But the meaning, the purpose,
The theme of the play
Shall live on forever
As I bury it
Today
© Copyright 2011 Skyler (skylerbrooks at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1750565-The-Service