When a published poet dies,
A shooting star falls.
The universe cries
And rainbows hugs waterfalls.
When an old poet dies,
A new poet is born.
Nature lights up a million fireflies,
And a ship gives a tot on its horn.
When a young poet dies,
A Crack appears in a crystal ball.
A Fountain pen dries,
And a sad poem appears on a wall.
When an old poetess dies,
For a while the wind will cease.
Petals will fall from Lillies,
And disappear without a trace.
When a great poetess dies,
Fallen poets observe silence.
The men adorn black bow ties,
And the ladies dress in elegance.
When any poet dies,
The world loses a bright mind.
Shakespeare appears across the skies,
Waving to those of us left behind.
When a poor poet dies,
Nothing at all happens.
The world goes about its duties
He goes on to rest with other legends.
#IvanBrooksPoetry
29/7/2018
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
When a published poet dies,
A shooting star falls.
The universe cries
And rainbows hugs waterfalls.
When an old poet dies,
A new poet is born.
Nature lights up a million fireflies,
And a ship gives a tot on its horn.
When a young poet dies,
A Crack appears in a crystal ball.
A Fountain pen dries,
And a sad poem appears on a wall.
When an old poetess dies,
For a while the wind will cease.
Petals will fall from Lillies,
And disappear without a trace.
When a great poetess dies,
Fallen poets observe silence.
The men adorn black bow ties,
And the ladies dress in elegance.
When any poet dies,
The world loses a bright mind.
Shakespeare appears across the skies,
Waving to those of us left behind.
When a poor poet dies,
Nothing at all happens.
The world goes about its duties
He goes on to rest with other legends.
#IvanBrooksPoetry
29/7/2018
A poet dies but he's not done..his words lives on.
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