An old poet lived in a dusty room
Cold, quiet, dark and gloom
In his mind, to heaven he flew away
Promising himself to return one day
Under an olive tree he embraces his wife
As if it was the first time of his life
Smiling as his boys call him from afar
No more wondering where they are
Holding on to breath and regardless of pain
He forced himself to go back down again
Climbing back to reality with a rope
Wishing for one last teardrop of hope
Half way down tired of his quest
Decides it is time to finally rest
A lonely poet lived in a lonely room
Little did they know it was merely a tomb
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
An old poet lived in a dusty room
Cold, quiet, dark and gloom
In his mind, to heaven he flew away
Promising himself to return one day
Under an olive tree he embraces his wife
As if it was the first time of his life
Smiling as his boys call him from afar
No more wondering where they are
Holding on to breath and regardless of pain
He forced himself to go back down again
Climbing back to reality with a rope
Wishing for one last teardrop of hope
Half way down tired of his quest
Decides it is time to finally rest
A lonely poet lived in a lonely room
Little did they know it was merely a tomb
An old poet died today.
