Just Words

I wrote a poem about the dead
It was glorious indeed
Most people think of poems as living things
Things you can read into whatever way you please
Shakespeare still helps single uninspired men
His words would out live him
And survive through endless time
But that thought never occurred to him
Nothing about his life matters outside the page

Just words

He might as well had never acted
Or fallen in love
Or had children
We don’t recall the contexts
Or The Globe
Or the lions tearing people apart across the street
His words would outlive him
And he never would have known
So today I was made certain
Because I wrote a poem about the dead

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