Old Hobo Man With A Beer Can

I remember winter,
April was her name,
She was born in autumn,
and we met in summer.

We made the seasons last,
burning down these names,
She made me alive,
Gave me reason to survive.

I remember winter,
Forgotten was it's name,
I never could remember,
What I did that day.

Now I am forgotten,
An old hobo with a can of beer,
Sitting by her grave stones,
Waiting for ghost for all these years. 

The End

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