Colin F. Jones


Well the wall is endless.
It is a forever wall.
All marble and mindless,
No one really there at all.
We take them with us when we visit;
Their Spirits get a name
That none will ask who is it?
While suffering from shame…
A wall of Spirits
Etched with the cost of time;
Just ours to visit;
Not yours nor mine…
For they are gone, every one –
To somewhere quite divine.