A poem to make you think.
http://voices.yahoo.com/playing-between-epitaphs-4608339.html
I went out on my own
Wandered out amount some old stones
Reading epitaphs
Wondering who did truly the truth grasp?
Looking to side...
Plastic withered flowers someone tried to hide.
Slowly walking,
Feeling the ever present hand that is stalking...
Walking past the well-groomed front-
I walk to the far corner overgrown and forgotten...
Stone's crumbling and older still.
Stone's facing a windy road, on a long forgotten hill.
A small frame church once stood over yon-
But the old church is long gone-
Look across the road, see the new
A fancy new brick church stands it's true.
Yesterday, we played among the stones, over on the old hill...
Today, no one play's among the stone's we've all grown old, and ill.
Yesterday, the stars had shown so bright.
Today, we walk on the sparkling dust that fell somewhere in the night...
Our dreams were so big, so strong; we knew we'd reach them all.
No one remembered to tell us that dreams are like stars, sometimes they fall...
Wandering around we would read of so many others, who'd already journeyed far away-
Never really believing we'd one day meet the same fate, laughing we'd run and play...
Somehow hours and days, turned to weeks and month's, too soon to years and decade's
So many faces gone away, no tears left to dry, life passed us by like many fast roaring parade's...
We watched, we waited, and we were patient, kind and true...
Faithful till the end, friends we knew, family too, left us behind in the shadows of rue-
Kind and just, it was not enough, we worked hard, but somehow we never could pay...
Working, we tried to make ends meet, but night always comes before the day...
We lived, we loved, we laughed, we cried.
We turned around all our friends, all our family seemed to of died.
How could it be?
It was just yesterday we all shouted with glee...
We were in a hurry, we wanted to leave.
We made a promise we thought everyone could believe.
But we should have read the epitaphs a little closer. Should have listened to the stones...
Standing so silent and stately, we pretended our grave we would not own.
Soon our shadows will pass by.
But no other child will play among the old forgotten stones. Do you not wonder why?
My friend it is easy to tell you, but hard for you to comprehend.
Our play ground was just over on yonder hill just through that graveyard, and around that last bend...
We would run through the graveyard, stopping now and then...
Reading about people from way back when-
But today the graveyard is sliding, progress you know.
All our friends and family have someplace else to go.
Our children play on a computer, never in the fields, nor on the mountaintop just above the old graveyards.
Our children believe their dreams, goals and ideals to be loftier than ours, no one's remember to show our children the cards...
It's sad, it's true but one day on our dust, our children will walk.
Who will read the final words written on our stones, will our life match our talk?
Our lives and our talk should match, a dream forgotten is better than a promise broken.
We should live our lives so we can be a faithful witness to the promise's the Father above has spoken.
If we must call ourselves Christian, we should remember the days will pass all too swiftly.
Soon we will be old, soon we will be gone, our trail of dust someone else may see...
If we live careless, and walk according to the things of this world one day we will pay.
Pay in teardrops of blood, as we see others who have followed our wicked way.
Forgiven we may be.
But do we live our lives as children, never thinking to look and see...
Turn around Christian; someone's looking at you today.
Someone's checking to see if your faith is true, or if you're just an actor in a play.
Turn around Christian; someone's going to read the epitaphs your writing today.
Dear Christian what would you like your stone to say???
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