When I come to pass
I will not leave my voice
What will remain are my words
Etched in lines
That have gone unread
Taken for granted
Until the moss feathers across
The ivy veins layered
In thick vines
Over my last words
Written in granite
© 2008 Miss Blue
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2 comments:
Very nice. Wonder about the etched in granite, especially with the impermanence of the internet.
:)
This poem's pretty deep. It makes me want to choose my words carefully.
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