Pale bones tinted with a yellowish hue.
Dirt swept harmlessly from the cracks and crevices,
Undisturbed from time til we glorified grave robbers encroached.
Shovels, brushes, poking, prodding, digging for the story.
You must be embarrassed.
More naked than you were at birth.
Did a woman ever grab your tibia like me?
Even if so, I doubt she ever saw you this bare—this innocent.
All ambitions stripped by maggots, who once had feasted.
Greed, anger, pain washed away.
Were you saved?
The cross that hangs off your neck,
Did the touch of cold steel offer you comfort in your last breaths?
I hope you were given what you were promised.
One day I may know.
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