Death that once mattered,
Now doesn't mean a thing.
Gravestones left empty covered with dirt,
Overturned and knocked down,
Like their lives never happened at all.
I like to think that all life matters,
No matter how small.
The life of the innocent,
The life of the brave,
Should mean more than an unmarked grave.
I uncover those stones,
As I wait for my own,
My place next to the greatest man I've ever known.
Even when the world forgets us,
And our graves are left empty and alone,
They'll always know that our life was our own.
That concrete slab represents love.
That someone no matter how small,
Loved us and gave us their all.