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Dead Poets

A poem about the cyclical nature of art, the line between honoring and stealing, and the desire to be original

By Rowan RileyPublished about a month ago 1 min read
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This prose will always be derivative of something else

I'm always etching into someone else's stone

Laying my claim to famous tombs

Shrines of glory, trying to make the halo fade into my skin

It never sits quite right

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About the Creator

Rowan Riley

I've been writing since I was very young and am trying to put myself out there by sharing some of my works, both new and old.

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