Each time I
visit my father
where he rests,
I see stones
all around
with flowers,
names inscribed,
and many underneath
the ground,
I do not ponder
how they got there,
but only wonder
how they lived
their dreams,
how they held
to hope,
and how
they loved
while with us.
You have a beautiful gift with words.
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Thank you very much for your words of appreciation.
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So beautiful.
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thanks for appreciating my work
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This piece makes me sad. Were those questions asked during his life?
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life flows in unpredictable pattern
joy overflowing one moment
sadness creeps in the next
moment….
i hope we make the best of life.
thanks for expressing your feelings.
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