The A-List Poem by Etienne Charilaou

The A-List



I see before me a list of great poets - dead.
And sobering, strange thoughts are sped.
For I know that though my name shall not appear,
yet my end-date too draws near.

This sorry state called life - full of fear;
'twill be good to depart it to safety clear.
But hurry me not from this lonely abode,
for much I love in it - and 'tis equally hallowed.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: dead,death,life,poets
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