No Matter How Far
P Patti Masterman
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To some, the dead must seem like objects,
Things with no consciousness, now defunct,
But the dead have character that's still visible;
Lines and wrinkles deep imprint.
The dead have loved one's quiet tears,
Late at night or in the day,
They hold a place at memorys altar-
Smiles and laughter, now so rare.
Empty husks, though they may be,
They keep the secrets of someone dear;
Secrets never compromised-
No matter how near, no matter how far.
Bu şiiri puanla
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