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
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