The Test Of Time

When a poem leaves the writers quill

The ink flows through his veins

The words are hidden inside his soul

And only his scar remains

What happens to the writer's words,

When everything's been said?

Does his words live on to set souls free?

Or discarded after they're read?

Some live on for hundreds of years

Long after the poet dies

While others are simply cast aside

But still the poet tries

Some poems are hard to understand

Using words to impress

Others are written with simple words

With meanings they're trying to stress

When a poem leaves the writers quill

It's more than just a rhyme

He prays it's something to heal his soul

And stand the test of time