The Old Poet
The old poet’s pen lays quiet now
No longer will it touch paper again
Where beautiful word were written
No longer will those poems begin
Shaky hands that once held a pen
No longer has the power to hold it
Dreams at one time were his to have
No longer will the rhyming words fit
He wonders why the words are gone
In his younger years they seemed to flow
Now his memory isn’t what it once was
Where it has gone he will never know
What a shame time has done to the poet
It has robbed him of he has done the best
For him life doesn’t seem worth while now
Soon he knows he will have Heavens rest
copyright © 2018 By Acie
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