Money For My Lady- - Friend. Poem by Michael Gale

Tears, rested to pillow...
Shadowed, awakened to emotions, real sullen, and sad.

A tear stained pillow, bent, like the whispering Willow...
Bent, beneath, a watered storm.

A watered storm, sad but stained...
Like as me, the one, so emotionally drained.

All spent up, as if in a dream, all lent up...
Lent up, fro' thee, than mine.

Wasted away, like the ash...
All spent up, like the used papered, cash.

The ash, the ash, and wasted dash...
Below the crooked, Elm, or Oak.

Next to the river bend...
Where, i send-

The wasted strife....
Dishevel, thy meddled Devil.

Thy meddled Devil, lo' i cry...
Beneath, the wrench of unfooled, die.

Beneath the one, an, added sigh...
Beneath all pain, the one i hide.

Tear spent amber, the dropp of life...
All, so spent, for one, lone wife.

Money for my lady friend...
For, my parted, saddened, - - end.