A poet said he died today
Packed his pen and went away
For reason unknown "I'll write no more"
He said goodbye and hit the door.
A tear I shed from hearing this
Oh what poetry I shall miss
Could his have been the words that saved
A stranger form an early grave
What brought him low with just one chop
I do not know he did not cop
But a hole he left that can't be filled
So I shall cry at the window sill
The night is dark that I do reap
And for his lost poetry I shall weep.
©Dark