Epitaph For A Poet Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

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!