DeadPoet

                      Dead Poet

Sometimes it is, that I do believe
That a dead poet has found my soul
And I to put down in verse his words
That he place upon this tongue to roll

To find a page, his thoughts to fall
And I,to place these words to verse
That he speaks to me, with southern drawl
And this to be my hearts loved curse

For as these words do spill his soul
And I, place here on empty page
The wisdom that he speaks to me
That I to be his center stage

Through his words, my heart grows quiet
As I listen,to all that he does tell
With poems recited from the grave
Verses drawn, from the dead poets well