A Poet's Fame

let me speak from my lips what is most fragrant

let not the words scold and create chaos,

but fold and intertwine to complete masterpieces

one's which become great will find beauty and passion

in the phrases of my pen

let them recite my works and coddle my memories as their own

in their children's time

they will not know of me,

but of my name

for they will not meet or greet me with open arms,

but from the pitchness of the ink which is spread on parchment like butter

for they will not love me

until i am dead.