A dead poet is all that I want to be
The day and night will pass by me
Some mind will seek for me
Some may not just forgive
A dead poet is he who can only live
In his poetry that others do believe.

Since I have long enjoyed an unearned luck
Time has come now to give it back
I just want to be brave this time
A dead poet needs to be buried in a dime.

I have filled everything with nothing
Now I have to tell all about something
A dead poet is that I wanted always to be
May be I never new
May be I will be.

Now when its time to die
Why have I just discovered
That I have never lived
Nor I have ever believed in life.

Poetry is what I actually lived for
Poetry is what I believed in
Poetry is what I am dying for
Poetry is what I have lived within.