My Friend Roger

For you the city preys
Unlike one, who the city prays
Upon one told false
The weight of the world,
Comes to rest
and comes to fall,
For years go by,
Hairs turn gray
And memories begin to fade,
The city roaring,
With fans in riot,
The weight of the world sits
Upon your soul,
To the point of tears,
For your name remains
Historic almost,
Remember the summer nights,
And rest in peace underneath
The August sun.

poem by Daniel Yetman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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