After the Fact

Once-considered

Trash

Becomes

Art

After

The artist’s

Death

A poet

Gains

Grandeur

By dying.

Lunatics are

Crucified

And only then

Adored.

Followers

Fall

Short

For the

Living

But

Fall

From the sky

For the

Dead.

I’d tell you

To crucify me,

But I don’t

Want

To die

To live.

Afterthought:

I wonder why this happens this way. People like to believe what they want to believe. It’s easier to believe of people what you wish to, when they aren’t there to tell you otherwise. It’s easier to take apart and a poet’s every other word and decipher the hidden meanings with supposed correctness, when the poet is not there to say, “This is what I meant! Where the hell did you get that idea from?” The same goes for artists and generally, for religions as well. When the person that started a specific religion is still alive and the religion is still in it’s formative stages, it’s usually considered a cult. Then the person dies, the “cult” gains a legion of followers and a religion rises from the ashes.