Whatever happened on that fateful night
We can speculate in the dimness of light
Was found the poet who went by the name of Poe
Wandering a Baltimore street of long ago

Mystery surrounds this most tragic event
No witnesses came forth with telling to vent
His mind state must of been in utter disarray
Why would he not know of the foul play

In dishevelled ragged clothes he was clad
An injustice on his person had been so sad
Elections were taking place on the date
His registered title forged another's slate

To a hospital he was sent for treatment
Though his weakened constitution never bent
The man of letters died a loner's death
His last words were of God's sure breath

Who wanted the author disposed of back then
We'll ever conjecture on the character's pen