A Literary Passing Poem by Elizabeth Shield

'Kill me now! ' the writer said, his fountain pen in hand
the crimson stain upon the page had marked it like a brand
his rheumy eyes and matted hair suggested age and disrepair
he had no pride left to wear, and said glibly with distant stare
''f I could but die upon my books, now wouldn't that be grand? '

'Wishes, wonder, work, and worry - that's all my life has been
And how fitting it would be, as all great works, to end it with a pen? '
the ink rained down upon the page, as the lauded author staged
a death - to free him from his cage; a fitting ending to an age
'Better to die at a good time, then always wonder when.'