John McChord

To The Poet

To the poet

You crackling ephemeral façade

You illusion

For you are no more now,

Than you were before 

To the lover

You fearful liar 

You promise of life,

Fueled only by death

You’d been forgot long before

To the Romantic 

Rage filled your head 

Burnt, the end of the page.

A flicker

Of pastel 

The forgotten 

The forgotten 

The long you forget,

The longer I’d known