K.C. Ford (not dead yet / crowle)
In this endless cycle of fashion,
the poets rise in praise
of whatever is the moments craze,
chanting words with pompous passion.
But empty are the hearts of men
who follow fads and latest trends,
who in truth cannot defend
the whims of such a fickle pen.
And when their verse no longer rhymes
with what fashion now dictates,
they hear the chorus of their fate;
You did not speak, you merely mimed.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Poets Fashion by K.C. Ford )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley