Poe-M Poem by John F. McCullagh

Poe-M



It was protracted suicide
Poe, dead before his time.
At the end he sold his clothes for drink
He was found the worse for wine.
A horror, like the tales he'd spun,
mad visions stalked his days.
This master of the Macabre
this day found a common grave.
No Raven croaked as he lost hope
of an earthly parole.
His doctor heard his final words:
'Lord, please save my poor soul.'

Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: poets
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
E.A. Poe died this date in 1849 10/07/1849
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