promise to an old poem

an old poem,

  a dying body

suffering the inevitable

coming of its time

these cancerous flecks

these silver streaks

and colors of life

fading from every word

lines that have

served their purpose

but have not aged well,

  they too succumb

you will not leave here

forgotten

my precious friend,

i am here as savior

to write you anew

a poem in night’s

  wasteful lull

a poem in lust’s

  eager confession

a poem for the faults

  and merits of men

  and women,

poems of reason

  or excuse

in these to come

you will live on,

i promise you this

in earnest

lest you disappear

from that page

without knowing