An obituary

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In loving memory of the poet
Death by overdose of ink to the heart
Murder by poem before she wrote it

Unspoken words causing a coughing fit
The rhythm inside unable to start
In loving memory of the poet

When she fell it was achingly quiet
and the syllables inside fell apart
Murder by poem before she wrote it

With nothing to fill the sorrowful pit
She fell tragically to her own art
In loving memory of poet

A flame extinguished that cant be relit
Meeting a tragic end before its start
Murder by poem before she wrote it

Since the strongest emotion is regret
In her name these praising words we impart
In loving memory of the poet
Murder by poem before she wrote it


Comments

  1. CloudwatcherMarch 26, 2016 at 3:51 PM

    Having a poem you just can't write for any reason does kind of feel like murder.

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownMarch 28, 2016 at 10:36 PM

    Such a beautiful poem. I don't care what anybody says. I love it very much.

    ReplyDelete

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