I Use to be a Poet

I use to be poet, I use to have a song

A bardful heart full of melody

Would express with ink and quill

The heart replaced divulge of poetry

The melody remaining ever still

I use to be a poet, but business now remains

To many things need to be done

While light grows shorter every day

The written work amounts to none

As the poet ever fades

I use to be a poet, but birds no longer sing

The daffodils have lost their yellow

The sky now seems less blue

Smiling faces no longer saying hello

The fear of growing up come true

I use to be a poet, but life is running out

My time no longer occupied

With lyric, verse and rhyme

Now work and deb control the mind

And the poet dies with benign

I use to be a poet, but onto one thing I hold

The chance the thought of yesterday

Are hidden within the lines

Of poetry long stacked away

The poet still alive

Related Article: