deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Gravedigger
It was cold and windy, always seemed to be the same
whenever he dug out a grave and often it would rain.
Grave digging was something he knew someone had to do
that was his job and he always took pride in doing it too.
People knew him in the village where he'd made his home
this strange young man, who was always on his own.
But he was just a lonely man, as harmless as can be
who wanted to live a normal life, just like you or me.
The girls always made fun of him and were a little cruel
he looked a bit simple and they treated him like a fool.
When he tried to tell them a new joke he'd heard one day
they wouldn't listen to him and just told him to go away.
Looking for company he'd be in the village every day
he'd try to talk to the girls, but they would just walk away.
Really he just wanted a girlfriend like any other guy
not wanting to be alone until the day he would die.
Most evenings he would spend at home on his own
without any one to talk to, not even a call on his phone.
But just the other day while he was in the churchyard
checking out a plot he was to dig for a Mister Blanchard.
A young girl said hello to him, the first person to that day
and she listened very carefully to him and what he had to say.
Her eyes watched him closely, reading his lips as he spoke
even smiling at his difficulty in trying to tell her his joke.
They started to be together, she with the silence she knew
he with all his strangeness and their love for each other grew.
He'd look at her so tenderly as they walked off hand in hand
and they'd gently kiss each other, like any couple in the land.
Happily their lives were changing, with the love they had found
and now you hear him singing as he digs a hole in the ground.
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