Prompt: Read a few of the poems from Spoon River Anthology, and then write your own poem in the form of a monologue delivered by someone who is dead.
a thousand tears from a thousand faces
mourn the thousand futures we will never see
but I do not harbor resentment nor regret
that would rob of the joys we found in life
all that I dreamed was you by my side
and now I see some dreams come true
if a quarter century was too much to ask
let us centuries hence lie here still
reminiscing and celebrating the few years we shared
and count it a blessing divine
that I never lived to mourn your passing
and that you were not left to endure mine