At Potters field
There are no markers
No gravestones
Or statuettes
Just a sadness
That lingers
Of those who died
Without peeople to forget.
Nearby
Grievers visit
The headstones
Of loved ones passed
Laying flowers
In remembrance
Of days
That didnt last.
Potters field
It watches
With hungry eyes
Of those who lay
Without family
Or even friends
Just green grass
On a cold day.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: October 22nd, 2026 02:48
- Comment from author about the poem: Potters Field.....Public burial place for people who are unknown , unclaimed, or too poor for a private funeral
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 53
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Norman Flagtea
Offline)
Comments8
We are but memories and some leave none. A sad write of those that leave no mark. Well written
thanks and much appreciation my friend
You are very welcome Norman
Very good write !
thanking you, much appreciated
Good write N.
Feels like that Field at this bus stop! lol.
It does, theres the long dead, the recently dead, and a few still hoping no 7 comes lol
oh lol.
Something about us will remain forever trapped in the folded time of the web.
That is true my friend our internet mark, thanks for read, appreciated
nicely done
thanking you, much appreciated
Damn, Norman. This is heartbreaking. I don't think anyone should leave this world without someone to mourn them. Sadly, it happens far too often. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
that is true my friend, thanks and much appreciation
Such meaningful words Norman.
Andy
thanks my friend, always much appreciated
A beautiful poem!
And a beautiful place.
It seems to me that the forgotten dead are quite at peace there. They share a fate, keep each other company and have a sad smile for the world - often grey but always wonderful.
Thanks for read always much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.