The Future, Unknown
Within the dread of the moment
I must dought that Shakespeare
Sat up all night, Writing his plays
Knowing they'd be timeless
One man
An epic in writing
By accident
Maybe one day
Once I have long since passed
Someone will come across
The pages I breathed life into
And maybe, out of mere curiosity
They may read my words and find symbolism
That I never meant to include
Maybe, in 300 years
I shall be an epic in the world of poetry
(If one still reads poetry by then)
And maybe I'll become famous as Shakespeare
Or Edgar Allen Poe; maybe I'll be known
For something I never meant to do
Myabe I'll be known for this
poem by Brie Carter
Added by Poetry Lover
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