sad death poem

for then without
did you ever hear of
pushing out, struggling vainly
friend, whose smile has come to be
why then, must we see?
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
a very remarkable history this is
leave the lovely words unsaid
over the river they beckon to me
but i cannot read you now
why do
when i was broke in london
there is no escape by the river
i was a goddess ere the marble found me