The Pointless Plaque

An ashy smoke slab of concrete webbed with cracks,

Like the heart of the corpse that lies underneath

Black soil consumes suffocating the carcass

The only life, weeds withered wrapping the bones

Identities are stricken, carved into stone

Lies a homogenous ground of skeletons;

Where working class and aristocrats can touch

A long-life of privilege rotting in decay

Lifeless lilies placed, forgotten, like those lost

Memories disperse with each petal that falls

A plaque, a stone, slab of concrete, a body

A grave becomes more significant than life

The pointless plaque can crumble with a tough hit

Are graves made from guilt? Will our love die with it…