The Other Side Of Polished Granite
7 August, 2012
Author: JMarshall
Black granite reflecting images
Of the living among the names
Of the dead.
With each name a story,
With each story a life,
With each life a memory,
Until all that remains are anecdotal accounts
Of these entities etched in stone.
I see my brothers and sisters
Walking, shuffling, rolling by;
Some that would seem to be better off
Standing with me,
As they wonder why they’re not.
I want to call out saying,
“Go! Seek the living, not the dead,”
To those who pause
To place a flower or a beer,
And to those who simply long
To touch the cold letters
With withered hands.
But I know my pleadings
Will not be heard,
Because for most I am
On the wrong side
Of The Wall,
Looking out from beyond the pain,
Beyond the tears,
Beyond the fears,
From beyond my name etched in stone.
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