The Poet's Legacy

Have I written one outstanding poem I am proud to say is my best work, And am I the one to judge the lines, or Does time place value on a poet's words? Does anyone know what makes the pen Ink the page with memorable phrases Filling blank pages with gathered rhymes Over which many an eye restless gazes From time to time, and then suggests This piece reminds me of empty spaces Vast wastelands of wonder unexplored And pages of white manuscripts wasted. So be it, I shall never know the ecstasy Of the one who finds a jewel, shouts with glee Maybe next century in the grand scheme Of things, finding their own meaning in me.