Your Old Poems

On the sides of the road they're sleeping shutter down on this cold dead's abode alphabets rusty brown! Some moment time of year bright minute dark hour you cannot remember all the wind blown flower! You were crying at the time yet wove a joyous drape bleeding heart spun a rhyme found a vent some escape! Through the ache wrote a yarn while breaking all the while played a fiddle on the burn wore a woeful neon smile! Walk once more the dead's abode show a light dust the page read the lines on the road your poems that would never age!