I walk in silence, slowly,
The grave stones I always read.
The cemetary is lonely,
There’s no one there but me.
I see the grave stone markers,
They are both old and new.
I notice new additions,
And see the old ones, too.
The headstones there are lovely,
They come in every size,
They may have angel statues,
With the occupatant to abide.
The little baby gravestones,
Always make me tear.
The baby toys and teddies,
Are with the little dears.