Monday, January 5, 2015

Everytime I Pass A Cemetery

A place where you cannot make an enemy and you cannot make a friend
Everytime i pass a cemetery i think of my own end
The dead do not have laughter or worries or tears
Or any sort of memories that come from their past years
Yet underneath the grave stones where the dead bodies lay
Live some of the living life forms that survive on decay
People like Nature's Seasons to life do come to and from then go
And time that does rust iron eventually becomes everybody's foe
Everytime i pass a cemetery it reminds me of my mortality
The bell that farewells the deceased will one day farewell me
And every passing second to death brings me more near
And though death it is a part of life it is the thought of it i do fear
Where you cannot make an enemy and you cannot make a friend
Each time i pass a cemetery i think of my own end.

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