John Shea - The Lonely Road

It was masked by massive tall oaks
The lonely road

Rivers of tears flanked its path
By each end a crying bath

The lonely road

The sharp and bumpy gravel
I used to travel

The lonely road

With frigid bones and bare feet
Not a scrap to eat

The lonely road

Reminded me of nothing
Nothing but sorrow

To hell with today
The same with tomorrow

The lonely road

A path to my end
Sorrow to spend

On the lonely road
Of tales untold.

John Shea

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lonely-road-3/