This Poem was Submitted By: Medard Louis Lefevre Jr. On Date: 2001-09-03 22:30:12 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The First Is Last

Enter rooms in silent wonder, Proudly, they glorify the past. Tradition honors death alone, Tragically, the first is last. Portraits hung on solid walls Hide the terrors so aghast. Roles were played to satisfaction, Dumbly, now, the first is last. The bronze, and gold, and silver icons In the same hollow molds were cast. Each were only telling one story, Pathetically, the first is last. A carved ship stands alone in center, Ironically, with a broken mast. The sailors are long neglected, Absurdly, now, the first is last. Spirits loom in forgotten splendor, In lighting they must fade away fast. Only darkness preserves their passion, Fortunately, the first is last.

Copyright © September 2001 Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.

Additional Notes:
A museum visit. Originally, submitted to poetry.com.[:(]


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