teenage love poem

gone before us
my soul is a dark ploughed field
when night drifts along the streets of the city
see the tentative
those black eyes i once so praised
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
when i go back to earth
the saddest of the year
the old west, the old time
in the cloud-gray mornings
i make my shroud, but no one knows
the light withdrawn
friend, whose smile has come to be
i gazed upon the glorious sky