Sunday, August 2, 2020

The Epitaph

What if your last text features as epitaph on tombstone ...

What hid behind,
The Smile -
No-one knew.
When you went the mile-
You left a life, askew.
Now, it's tough to trace,
The rings of memories-
Like, wreathes of smoke,
From half burnt out butts,
They settle, unsettled.
The dried up tears,
Stretch the path-
Never forgotten.
The unsmiling eyes,
Look deep into the faded photograph-
For a sign of life,
Remembering the epitaph. 

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