teen poetry

the pale day drowses on the western steep
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
eighty years have passed, and more
out of the window a sea of green trees
she said
did you ever hear of
out of the deep and the dark
in your arms was still delight
when i was broke in london
hang no wreath
a pen of steel
gone before us
when i was a boy at college
simply speaking