Between the dates upon the stone,
Lies a line so small, yet vast,
A dash that marks the life once known,
From first to final breath and past.

In that brief and simple mark,
A universe of moments lie,
The laughter, love, and even dark,
The dreams that reached beyond the sky.

Each life a journey, short or long,
Etched in that quiet, humble dash,
The silent song, the unsung song,
The memories that forever flash.

So when you see that line so fine,
Remember all it seeks to say,
For in that dash, the stories shine,
Of lives that touched us every day.