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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=382811" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Family Urn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the corner of a white marbled hall<br>stood the most beautiful urn.<br>For years it was handily polished<br>and oh how it did yearn<br>to give forth the stories of all its years<br>to all those whose eyes did turn<br>to marvel at the sight of it<br>and how it had been made.<br>But the stillness of all things inanimate<br>kept its stories untold and staid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It remembered how it had been the receptacle<br>of long stemmed roses and fern, <br>tended to by members of the family, <br>each of them taking their turn<br>to collect them from their gardens<br>and arrange them with great pride.<br>It felt all eyes looking its way<br>to see what it held inside.<br>Surely it would always stay this way, <br>forever and a day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But no, 'twas not to be, you see.<br>For one in the family said, <br>'It's held enough flowers through the years.<br>Let us use it for our dead.'<br>And so one by one as the souls moved on<br>their ashes were placed in the urn.<br>And the resting place for all who had tended it<br>would no longer have concern<br>for the white marble hall or the polish they used.<br>And the urn became confused.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was it not my place to be admired<br>on every single day? <br>If I could tell my stories<br>oh what I could say.<br>Some who I'm holding were pleasant folks, <br>others were quite mean.<br>Some were lax with their duty<br>to always keep me clean.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some were old when they came to me<br>and some did not live long.<br>And my purpose has changed drastically<br>which to me seems wrong.<br>For I long to hold red roses again<br>and once again learn<br>what it feels like to be beautiful<br>and dignify an urn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edwina+Reizer">Edwina Reizer</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=382811" data-title="The Family Urn de Edwina Reizer" data-description="In the corner of a white marbled hall
stood the most beautiful urn.
For years it was handily polished
and oh how it did yearn
to give forth the stories of all its years
to all those whose eyes did turn
to marvel at the sight of it
and how it had b..."></div>
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