On this day 164 years ago, Edgar Allen Poe, the poet, author, and generally thought creepster (would you agree on that one?) passed on.
His death, a mystery still. The man, a mystery to me.
All I really know of him is as follows:
“I have faith in fools.”
He had faith in me.
and maybe in foolish poetry.
I had a roommate from Boston once.
with the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard.
I wonder what Poe’s laugh sounded like,
Maybe a Raven’s cackled.
If he laughed at all.
A skinny boy I knew,
still know I guess,
Dressed as him in Seventh grade.
Halloween was the exuse.
But I don’t think the reason.
More credit should be given
And wrote that one could love
than love itself.
When did Poe know
What I know to be true?