Cemetery Hill

A poem about my brother's passing and burrial.

Cemetery Hill

On top of the hill where I often go,
My brother is there six feet below.
I'll go there again you know I will.
He waits for me on cemetery hill.

Rest in peace my loving brother,
Silently he sleeps with the others.
Your body lays in an eternal state
Your soul was left for God to take.

Know I will come to you and talk,
Just above your grave I will walk.
God called you home years ago.
He called for His son you know.

Now he's happy in his new home.
He lays there never again to roam.
When I can I will visit my brother.
On cemetery hill with the others

BY: Kings