Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone,
The name and date are chiseled out on polished marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care.
It is not too late to mour.
You did not know that I exist.
You died and I was born.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse entirely not our own.
The place you filled one hundred years ago,
Spreads out among the ones you left,
who would have loved you so.
I wonder.... if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew,
That someday I would find this spot and come to visit you.