Poetic History

Anticipation precedes the prize Splendor warrants the wait A marriage made through Heaven's eyes There's no such thing as fate The poets of old reap their reward Through the pages in history Left behind by their own accord For poets like you and me Who will be the next master poet To leave their words behind Whoever it is may never know it Unless life treats them kind There will never be another Poe, Dickinson, Frost or Keats But somewhere someone's words will show That another poet competes The more we write the more we learn These words are always true Just keep on writing and you may earn A place in history too