Epitaph For A Poet

His poems in millions sold The poet lies here dead and cold! Here lies the poet Who through toil and sweat Played word games, Wrote many poems. From his heart deep thoughts Poured out in lots Creations of his mind Made his readers blind. How was he as a person? It’s mostly unknown His own comforts he did embrace Little he cared for others’ happiness With mortal temptations he was bewitched Never followed the values he preached. Small lapses (or are they?) for a poet so great Aloof in life, he lies solitary in death!