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THE POET INSIDE IS DYINGDid this happen to Keats, Shelley Edgar Allen Poe--Those we know? For has my poetry lost its glow? Oh, sure I wrote the book one day On a shelve it too has passed away But then if no one reads a wasted day The poetry in me is dying today A best poet in my realm was chosen My poem sits now frigid and frozen Is it time for me to be a poetry cloven? I remember writing poetry was new I was writing poetry just for you When I died in poetry I haven't a clue No longer it seems is there a need To hear from others a ego feed I see the poetry vulture circling overhead Ah, my friend Edgar is this poet dead Time to put all poetry books to bed For the poets only read a poem that's mine So for you here is my poetry valentine Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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