Poets and Poetesses Never Die
They wove a wordily world
Out of space and sherds of imagination
They wove meanings in mere metaphors
Like spinning spiders
The seer just slept
The poem prospers posthumously
And rake in income post-humorously
S/he died poor but partly NOPE
S/he gave life to you and me
S/he gave a piece of life to us
S/he gave a smile to us
S/he enlightened our dark hearts
Poets and poetesses never die,
They live on shadows and ghosts
In dusts of lively libraries, helly hells and heavenly heavens
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