Fate knocks your door
A yearling poets falls
Upon your words so small
Did your words live on,
I think not,
Almost forgot!
Except some dark and dusty plot
The land and faith you valued most
Has left you as a ghost.
The gravestone covered in moss
The books almost lost
Bid me 50 pence sir
For something almost lost
Sara Foster an unknown name
Never did you find fame
Did you search? (whilst in pain!)
Did you ever complain? (when fame never came?)
Or did you just live your life in vain?
Unbeknown to all around.
But your words will live on again,
on the internet most plain.
Though alas still no fame!
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