The Test of Time

When a poem leaves the writer's quill The ink flows through his veins The words are hidden inside his soul And only his scar remains What happens to the writer's words, When everything's been said? Do his words live on to set souls free? Or discarded after they're read? Some live on for hundreds of years Long after the poet dies While others are simply cast aside But still the poet tries Some poems are hard to understand Using words to impress Others are written with simple words With meanings they're trying to stress When a poem leaves the writer's quill It's more than just a rhyme He prays it's something to heal his soul And stand the test of time