He taught dead poets like us
How to live
He taught me how to
**** the marrow out of life
But in the end
Life ****** the marrow out of him

He taught us
That sometimes
We just need to follow the music
Wherever it may take us
But when the music stops
What can you run to

He taught us
That there is always family in your heart
But when you need them most
They might fail you

All great men
Will return somewhere
Someday
Some will be revered for what they were
And others
Will be loved for what they left

R.I.P Mr. Williams

It's getting harder to write.

Tears run down my face
As I stare at the blank paper
And realize that it's you.

It's getting harder to write.

This window of emptiness,
This episode of hollowness,
Is the result of you.

It's getting harder to write.

You triggered everything,
That has ever been wrong with me.
But I'm a great liar: "I'm fine."

**I lost my ability to write.