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Crowded Plot
I don't feel at ease here,
Or at peace.
There are no fond memories -
Just an empty spot,
In a crowded plot -
No room for your soul to breathe.
Oh, what a distant memory -
A little girl at the foot of her papa,
The pitter patter of tiny feet -
Ready to jump,
Into the arms -
Awaiting.
Time has since faded -
That little girl is no longer.
A woman when you passed,
Yet a child still at heart.
Memories left -
Scattered -
And I'm left to wonder,
If you feel forgotten,
In this overgrown plot -
With pieces of you missing -
Divided,
As is your sanctity.
