The people we were we bury,
and hard lies the earth on
their hopes and dreams, and
blood still remains on the
blade of the shovel with which
we killed and buried them.
They died begging us to remember
who we had been, those hopes
and dreams we once had, yet we
raised the shovel and allowed
it to fall, and now on their grave
we sit down in regret and grief.
12.09.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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