When poets die, their words live on
You see them everywhere
They're written in the moon and stars
Or maybe, a humble prayer

They're written in the morning sun
As the sunshine brings us light
You can find them in the sunsets
That ushers in the night

They're written in the summer breeze
That tempts the leaves to dance
They're written in the beautiful flowers
That brings the spring romance

They're written in the winter snows
As snowflakes start to fall
They're written in the autumn leaves
In trees, both big and small

When poets die, their words live on
They never pass away
Anywhere your heart can look
Our words are here to stay