Sunday, January 27, 2008

Reflections of a Grave Digger


I know all of your needs

You who is six foot four

Of a metre deep pit

Have no worry you’ll fit.

I am a grave digger;

Of the age old kind

One who let your body grow

As grass, plant and trees

I tend not schoolyards

Where you grew old

But these graveyards

Where flesh turns bones

These moments of last embrace

Of earth, body with no grace

I give you all honour

As much as one he who never got, can

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