Democracy will decide

 Democracy will decide


Democracy will decide

Which poems might live

And which shall die. 


Some will thrive for a year or two

Some will never see the light of day 

Only time will say. 


Some will sleep for a year or three

Others ignored for a century 

Until the people otherwise decree


What shall rise above 

Which verses live

And which should rest. 


Far away from the fads of the day

What will dissolve in time

And what will forever stay. 


For fashions come and fashions go

But cream will rise and settle

Virtue will always show its mettle. 


The poet’s pride is not the thing  

The funeral bells may ring

Now long dead his ashes scattered. 


If words can speak beyond the grave

A new generation can surely gain

From insight not lost but just delayed



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