The Absent Poet

some may have wondered where the old poet's been
what has happened to that silly old man
he used to write a poem or two
where did he go, what did he do

did he leave the earth and no one knew
how would they know his time was through
was he thrown in jail for doing things
for deeds or crimes he had to pay

or some sickness laid upon his head
perhaps confined to a lonely bed
so bad to not let others know
lying there no where to go

perhaps a lady oh so fair
caught his eye and rubbed his hair
and other parts not to discuss
except to say he got it up

perhaps to a city where no one cares
where no one speaks or gives a stare
where one can live in anonymity
and be lost among humanity

or high upon a mountain trail
to a place so few would seek to dwell
there alone deep in the wood
a place Thoreau or Frost would love

perhaps to a land so far away
to visit there but not to stay
to a place that he had never seen
of a land that he had only dreamed

but none of that you see is true
no bucket list he made to do
none of that has taken place
old poet's still here, still in the race

yes still here, he's still around
just running errands all over town
doing this and doing that
why you would think he had enough of that

so here's the truth, let's get this done
let's make a list, let's start with one
and right at the top the things to do
is to sit and write this poem for you