The Gravestone

Every moment, when the past burns

I turn to my inner gravestone

To remember all that lived once

Lying deep underneath as bones


Every wound has grown a scar

And every tear has left a track

I never seek what I have lost

Because I know it  never comes  back


This stone is grey, cold and stoic

Engraved on it, with the ink of my blood

Are the words “Here lies a broken heart”

Which had once known nothing but love”


And every step I take ahead

Is followed by a turn behind

To glance at the ashes of the past

And hope that the world ahead is kind


I lay flowers of sorrow and wreaths of hurt

Every once in a while , I crave

To stare at the remains of what is dead

Beneath that solitary grave


Someday  I will walk away

If I ever come back one last time, and see

Somebody who understands, laying flowers on my grave

I might then, finally, be free