Gothic poetry... The Cemetery Man

I love the cemetery man
the only one who cares.
He prowls the grounds within the fence
and all r in his lair.

I love the cemetery man
he lurks upon each grave.
He preens the yard around each stone,
then kneels upon to pray.

I love the cemetery man,
he stalks in mud and brine.
Then peers out from his crypt inside,
with caskets laid in line.

I love the cemetery man
he wears all black and glows.
The flowers which do bloom each year,
is beauty he does grow.

I loved the cemetery man
I've searched but cant find him
I hope he slumbers peacefully,
deep in the mausoleum.