Epitaph
Having no wish to be remembered, I do
What makes a name or two endure,
Without the right to be among those few:
An epitaph is all I might secure -
A wreath of rhyme - with words by me - or you!
And these are mine - of which I'm rather sure:
Here (or is it there?) lies John-Charles Cooke,
Whom love mislaid, and life (he said) mistook!
Poetry by John-Charles Cooke
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Written on 2009-07-02 at 23:20
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