When the Poetry Fades Away
Dull becomes the page, when there's nothing left to say
When the classroom is empty and the projector is blank
And the halls echo in silence their voices now gone
Autumns past, as the inspiration dies and the winter dawns....
Gathering my pens and a felt unto the chalkboards place
One final mark amid this farewell, to leave but a happy trace
As turning out the lights to close the door upon times
Crossing a vacant lot to leave this world; its colours behind....
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....“When The Poetry Fades Away” ~
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