Memoir of Tombstones
Tombstones talking
Standing afloat in the air
But burried in the ground
With only the view of forward
Nothing to look back into,
Cracking in the monsoons
And collecting moss after then,
They still continue to talk
Wondering about the personalities engraved
Bodies burried,
And how had they ended up
Were they a part of a war or a victim of a genocide
Everything's history and all is under a viel
But a moment of bliss is what they need
A humane touch on their shoulder's side…
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