crashing out of the constellation too soon,
forcing a weary frame to pen poems,
endless eyes weeping at their beauty.
Blessed by genius, cursed by TB
so that he moved from his damp English home
to sunnier skies in glorious Rome
but alas, it was all to no avail.
Yes, he truly was a "Bright Star"
and I imagine him peering at the heavens above
on a cloudless Roman star-freckled night
writing wonderful words to grace any page
and long after my body has expired
his works will continue to be admired.