Cemetery of Love

Graveyards are a memory
For those who know of love.
And every tombstone in the yard,
Is a sign of giving up.
Every piece of grass that grows
Over a fresh dug grave
Is a sign of peace and serenity
For one who was so brave.
And all the flowers blooming in spring
And dying in late night fall
Are reminders of a soul at rest
Who gave their heart to all.
So why is it I turn away
As if it’s bad to see?
For this is where I long to lay,
Yet am too afraid to be.

9-25-1990 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
PS. I miss you! I love you! Still!!
PSS… God is my hero.
I am so thankful for God allowing me things to be so different now.

TOMBSTONES

Markers of a burial.
Reminders of a death.
Smile for the destruction.
There is no resurrection
For the souls who are lost.
Caskets lay beneath the dirt.
Bodies once embalmed.
The end of a era.
Names aren’t of real value.
They’re left disgraced.
How do you prevent it?
You don’t.
I pass by the gate of the graveyard.
I’ve seen mine.

10-29-1989
written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Because I had so many friends being murdered at a young age,
I was convinced I was to be killed at a.young age too.