Epitaph

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  • Death

    Epitaph

    Under the sweetest flower,
    in the garden of bones,
    in deep, here I sleep.

    On my ground, tears shower,
    sorrow, bathing my tombstones,
    for me, do not weep.

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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    gothicsueaside’s Poems (22)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Only Thing Missing 3
    Just a Loan 3
    My debt 0
    Fate of my dreams 0
    Wishes 1
    Death, My Friend 2
    End 0
    Death 2
    Epitaph 0
    Tainted 0
    Thank you 2
    Love Meant Nothing 2
    Lost half 0
    My destiny 1
    Dead tears 0
    Farewell 0
    Crucifixion of an Angel 3
    The Last Word 1
    Graveyard of the Forgotten 2
    Dream of Death 2
    Discarded Love 5
    Valentines Day Lament 2