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Living Monument
I beg thee not for a dead
monument made of solid
stone, nothing so grand that
will stand never changing
But of you I ask a living
breathing monument, to plant
a seed upon my grave and
every day come and tend it
with fresh rain water
And as the time would
pass, it will begin to grow
sprouting green and breaking
free
You may watch as it rises
and let it bring joy to your
pain, a smile for your grief
I wish it most of all to be a tree
Perhaps a tree of fruit bearing
and when it blossoms and ripens
you may take a bit and know you
take in something of me to be
with you forever.
10:26 PM - 4/4/2007 -
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