The Crying Poet (Lizzy Jarett)

Your first words are crushed in the spotlight,

Your typed sheets flutter like grey moths at night,

Your words spoken staccato rat-a-tat,

You recount a tragedy as if it’s matter of fact.


Many choking blows,

A final breath,

Everybody now knows

Another needless death.


All their tears sweep down up and around,

We all cry and sob and weep for you.

Joined in sadness, for he couldn't be saved.

You stop silent and shed tears with us too.
But I’m dry eyed

Till I realised

I’m crying at the grave too.