poetry for kid

my mother twines me roses wet with dew
rocked in the cradle of the deep
there is a country full of wine
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
some of the hurts you have cured
when i was a boy at college
will you glimmer on the sea?
a storm is riding on the tide
and how could you dream of meeting
when the wind works against us in the dark
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
why are the things that have no death
i went up and down the streets
tell me not