A long epitaph

This might be the longest epitaph. I was reading on shape poems when i stumbled across that how "epitaph" is also considered to be a form of poem. So here i was trying to write one, but it turned out to be pretty long, which only means that when i die i will need a bigger stone..Sylvia writes this one.

here is the one who lived many seasons ago,

wanted a vintage burial,

her life so surreal

tell, tail,tale it was all the same,

her poor life was so lame,

dreams bounced off the beams,

now ripped off at the seams,

she wanted to write a story,

she wanted all the fame & the glory,

she couldn't write a single line,

loved the pickled lemon floating in brine,

such silly rhymes she would write,

that all the noted authors ran away in fright,

her dreams far, now buried deep under,

all she used to do was to complain & wonder,

now inside a wooden box,

her dreams all dead,

dark, misty, like  a month old bread,

here she lied buried, dark & deep,

& no one wanted to keep her dog named Peep.