Bones turn to ash
Flowers grown on the grave
The ground is ploughed again
Children grow
Children die
In time the photo fades
The church crumbles to ruin
Only wind fills the space where I once played
When my laughter has faded
When my pain forgot
As my clothes burn
My music changes tune
And my love fades from your mind
Tell me
Who will remember the bad poet?
The lover who was never loved
The disappointing scholar
The distant friend
The one who passed through life quietly
Touching no one
Leaving no mark
Maybe days, maybe months
When the grass grows on my grave
No one will wake up already missing me
I will fill no ones head late at night
No one will sing my songs
Recite my poems
See my photo
Because no one remembers
Not one of them cares
Who needs the bad poet?
Who wants the bad poet?
Only silence answers her call