The Last Day of Poetry
Burned it's trademark into a library
Until the poetry dissappeared from tome and passages
Which was within the hallowed passages
Of work unpaid, yet to be admitted,
And so remains mine
Printed on the side of a pick-up.
It was 3:15 and soon the pages flipped
Unseen three times, and books closed
And classrooms without teachers excused
Themselves to bring into our world
Rulers and Senators from highschool classes
Though, never was there a prophet popular in his hometown.
Burned it's trademark into a library
Until the poetry dissappeared from tome and passages
Which was within the hallowed passages
Of work unpaid, yet to be admitted,
And so remains mine
Printed on the side of a pick-up.
It was 3:15 and soon the pages flipped
Unseen three times, and books closed
And classrooms without teachers excused
Themselves to bring into our world
Rulers and Senators from highschool classes
Though, never was there a prophet popular in his hometown.
