How He Thought He'd Be Missed Comments
Oh one year to this day he'd died,
A void would long remain with us,
His absence felt conspicuous,
Hope his bequest would new pens guide.
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Isolated in a huge crowd, And lapsing in silence, in mimes, Of whom poetry world feels proud, He struggled for a word at times......outstanding conceptualization. This is really a beautiful poem on poet and fame having an impressive inscription.10
Your observation is to the point. In running after fame, a poet forgets to enjoy his creation. Of course if poems are appreciated by the readers the poet would feel good, but the first person to enjoy the poems should be the poet himself. Thank you Kumarmani M.
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8/22/2025 11:29:02 PM # 1.0.0
His absence! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Yes, when one has an inflated sense about his poems this happens. The poet dies along with his poems. Thanks Edward Louis.