As I wrote out this poem

These embers leave my sorrow
Broken down in twisted verse
You may read
My broken English
You indulge in simple pleasures
Flowers for caskets
Brass for soldiers
Love for the young and the old
Freedom for the children
Insanity for the wicked
We dream upon the stars and watch the fire tonight
We leave our minds open
For the passing weary
Instead of dreaming
I felt sorrow
For the night
My fingers got crossed
As I wrote out this poem