I think some of us forget or maybe do not care.
To honor the dead on Memorial Day each year.
Six miles from the city off an old country road.
Lies an old cemetery with rocks for head stones.
Some of it is maintained by neighbors around.
The rest is covered with leaves on the ground.
My Grand Parents lay there in their graves.
So on Memorial Day when I visit their graves.
I take along my weed eater and a heavy rake.
And some sweet smelling wild roses I also take.
I remember the cemetery where Dad took me.
I'd help him by raking the leaves from the trees.
Dad would be proud to see the markers I made.
Just little concrete blocks their names on them.
This year I will pay a visit again to them there.
I'll think of my Dad when we'd pay our respects.
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