Amongst the throngs death has parlayed, <br />I must pay attention fine lovely art. <br />In ancient times a cold stone morgue it usually was. <br />Not cold marble steps ascending into. <br />Busy the few masking faces mother's to. <br /> <br />Marketing death a wife there confessing your sins. <br />I thought of the children we knew. <br />A father his daughter her son going off to war. <br />I am he, she is he the trustworthy mother to all. <br />How ever wealthy some are the rest aren't. <br /> <br />Ancient cultures captured the light of mons Venus. <br />The red spot in the sky it is Mars. <br />In the winter one evening star, two planets are. <br />A cross forms the X where people stand. <br />Twenty two degrees at right angles on the solstice.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-alone-2/
