A poem bursts upon the world, the Earth, for what its worth.
Does it make any difference whatever, to you or me or never?
Still, people say carry on.
Will you miss me when I’m gone?
Who, me, or this poem, don’t you see?
Okay, whatever you say.
Gone tomorrow, here today.
This is all I have to say.
Does this poem stand up to scrutiny?
31st October, 2018