sad poem

let us pity those who are better off than we are
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
in your arms was still delight
the stars fell from heaven
so fallen
when the hours of day are numbered
lo! 'tis a gala night
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
daughter, thou art come to die
it was many and many a year ago
once this soft turf
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow