They say poetry is dead
Like a pencil without any lead
They say nobody writes
Like a holiday without the sights
They say written verse is dying
My friends they are all just lying
They say the books have dried up
Like tea leaves at the bottom of a cup
They say that interest has ceased
Like a chalet no longer leased
They say we’re running out of verses
Like hospitals without nurses
They say the day will come fast
When poetry becomes a thing of the past
They say this but its not what I believe
It’s just what society wants us all to perceive