Tom Milsom

Graveyards

Tom Milsom


There's a graveyard where no graveyard used to be
There's a graveyard made of grass and memories
Over ground that's overgrown, the grass, the skin, the blood, the bone
That's buried here in scores
The never-ending sores

There's a braveheart where the graveyard used to be
Fighting an imaginary cavalry
All the dead in this dimension wield a weapon of retention
Hidden from him now
Until they will allow

There's something reminiscent of a grey and weathered china cup
I'm sure that's just for me
The things that i can see
Where graveyards used to be

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