November 16, 2010

Day 316 - Dying Party

I come to a golden, warm tomb
Life filtering away from me
In a gentle breeze
As we did from the great trees
Who set us at last free

I lie on the cold concrete
Beside my fellows
We are happy here together
Could be forever
In our own yellows

The brick wall learns from us
Or maybe it is the instructor
I am not quite certain
Either way we match like kin
Of that I am completely sure

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