Do not leave flowers upon my grave,
For unattended they will die,
And be safe from all - save,
The lonely passer-by.
Decorate not my resting place,
Its modesty is quaint,
No motley colored fringe or lace,
Leave such honors for the saint,
No need for whispered visits late,
Or tearful soliloquy,
The grave is only our silent fate,
Of damp, deaf body - spirit absentee.
So all your words will only fall,
Upon my vanquished ears,
And never give back life to all,
Your misplaced youthful years.