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Prose - A Stranger's Grave Is Now Yours

Updated on March 8, 2012

Were you really alive?
My emotions tell me so
I stare and wonder
Why I need to know
I see a stranger's grave
But I’ve never seen yours
They told me you died
But instead I pray over hers
The dream of your life
Intertwined with my own
And hers with ours
All etched in stone
A simple epitaph
You were here
She was there
And I stand near
Who cried over her
As I cried over you?
Does anyone remember?
I wonder who
As does she
Her flowers need water
From either you or me
And yet I wilt
Even as I live
With simmering remorse
Because I cannot give
To you or her
Or those who loved
The two of you
And what of things unresolved
About her place
And yours
In my life
And how it obscures
Any meaning I may have carried
From that fateful day
When I was told
Your own hand took your life away
And brought me here
To this place
To learn of her
While imagining your face
Who loved her
As I loved you?
You were my friend
This will always be true
Even as time has separated us
But your presence
And the feeling you are there
Is here in her essence
In how she reaches me
And how I long
To know her
But is it so wrong
To place vicarious sorrow
Upon her shores
To use her life
To remember yours?
Will she
Rise up
Out of the ground
To fill my cup
With her love
For deliverance
By me to you
So that for once
The memories
That were buried with you
And with her
Will come into view
For all to see
As I bridge
The gap
And acknowledge
That the story
You both now weave
Lives in my mind
While I grieve
For you
And for her
And for those

Who cry as they remember


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    • Teylina profile image

      Teylina 6 years ago

      You never will. This hub proves that. Death is so unnatural.

    • The Suburban Poet profile image

      The Suburban Poet 6 years ago from Austin, Texas

      @Teylina - Thank you. It just comes from my true feelings about my friend. It's all there 20 years later and I haven't forgotten him....

    • Teylina profile image

      Teylina 6 years ago

      The intensity of your writing is what makes it so powerful, SP, especially with such a soul-searching poem. Yes, deep. Definitely. Must admit it took me a minute--not long--to find myself totally entrenched in what you were saying. Of course, just about the time you wrote this was when my mother died, and I've been more on the introspective take since then, anyway. However, I would have found this an awesome write no matter when I read it. And there is no way I could skip it. Thank you. It is 'compelling." Good word for it.

    • The Suburban Poet profile image

      The Suburban Poet 6 years ago from Austin, Texas

      @Mystique - thank you for your very kind words my friend. It is hard to get anyone to sit and read something like this. I have a friend who is close to me who says they love my work but its so intense they can't seem to find the time to cry or think about it. I try to be happy as I am in person but it is boring to me on paper I guess....

    • Mystique1957 profile image

      Mystique1957 6 years ago from Caracas-Venezuela

      My brother poet...

      This writing is so compelling, so visual...

      The way the words knit themselves into each other and then carry you further into grief, remorse and indescribable loneliness is artful. I´ve walked away a bit from dark and sad poetry myself, yet I cannot pass this up. It is beautiful!

      Rated up and beautiful!

      Warmest regards and infinite heavenly blessings,