Memento
The graves
By the road
Tombstones
Leaning
All overgrown.
Stones scattered
Among the trees;
Many blank
Their names wiped clean.
People were buried
Long ago
But no one remembers
And no one mourns…
And now their bones
Lie forlorn.
I hate to think
What will become of us,
The moon in our eyes
Beneath the dust;
With no one to call
And no one to care
Our names erased
By passing years.
It’s sad to think
We’ll inherit a stone,
That years will erode
Til all trace is gone.