The Garden Of My Grave

As a small boy,
I would dig in the earth
With my father.
For him, it was a small garden
In the heart of the city
To raise tomatoes.
For myself,
I was always digging the grave
That I desired to be buried in.

by Uriah Hamilton

Comments (2)

Dear Uriah, This is a lovely but sad poem. The conciseness and clean lines make it easier for the reader to partake of the greater depths in the poem's heart. Good writing. Best, Hugh
What a sad poem Uriah. It really breaks my heart to think you've felt such sadness even as a young boy. Great write........heartwrenching though. Sincerely, Mary