I WAS LEFT THE LEGACY OF READING

33

i

All we can read is life
Death is part of her script
Suffering and candles belong
To the living, all around us
And you will end somewhere else
Waiting to die, awkwardly loving
The world that did you some harm

ii

All we can read is beauty
The small anonymous memories
That overpowered others, the questions
Never answered, that don’t belong
To the living or the wise, but
To the great beyond, the quilt of names
That we met, the few faces smiles
By the living, for the living

iii

All we can read is life, flung by hands
That forged children from grassy wombs
Wombs that forgot their mother somehow
In the love that once felt so individual.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/I-give-life-458146106

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