Bury me in a pauper’s tomb
this is all I crave;
no ostentatious monument
will keep me from the grave.
No granite obelisk need I;
no mausoleum of stone;
all I ask is a plot of land
to lay my weary bones.
I need no costly resting place
when to my grave I roam;
’tis enough to know that I was loved
while my body was my home.
So do not set my legacy
upon this mortal ground
for when I die, I’m confident
my soul is Heaven-bound.
Wow. I really like that! Good job on the ideas and the prosody.
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