Where do all dead poets go?
If you find out then let me know.
Does all language die with them?
Words float in air, then end. Amen.
Or are their words preserved in time?
Scorched on paper, then held in shrine.
There to be seen, read, devoured,
Ancient wisdom from those empowered.
There to make a serious point
Using words to soothe, anoint.
Recording times, events and places.
Cataloguing history, people, faces.
Sometimes harsh in what they say,
Determined to speak come what may.
Not all poets speak in rhyme;
Using rhythm to keep in time.
But all good poems should touch the heart,
Evoke emotions from the start,
Make the reader see and feel,
Hear what's said, know it's real.
Remind us where we all connect,
Be you non- religious or from a sect.
Touch our senses, hearts and memories.
What one man does another sees.
Not all men use knowledge for good;
Follow morals and do what we should.
Think before we act and speak.
Find courage, be strong, protect the meek.
If you find time to help out others,
Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers,
Take your life and start anew.
That's when you'll find the poet in you.