Just so you people know, I rarely ever write poems, and I'm not a great story writer...but tell me what you think of this poem and give some suggestions on how i could make it better, having problems with thinking of good ending... It's about pompeii when mount vesuvius erupts...

As I walk through the streets of Rome,
I think of the place I used to call home,
I wish it was the way it had been,
But I know Pompeii will never be seen,
It’s all buried now in dirty ash,
It was the angered gods that made it trash,
And thus I walk through the streets of Rome,
Thinking of the place I used to call home.