Who said poetry is dead, and if so, how do you know

 If all poets and poetesses are buried six feet below 

 We should rise to their surprise 

To show that we will never go

 They talk about the darkness as if it’s a second soul

 They talk about Romance as if it cannot be let go

 They talk about anger gripping them so deep, You Feel It In your sole

 They talk about erotic scenes that your eyes cannot let go

 Poetry is not dead

 Don’t let that petty talk go straight to your head

 Come with me and let’s play

 Just maybe you’ll want to stay

 You are so sweet and so tender

I just wonder if you

Or you can come and render 

The poet or poetess out

From your darkness