The cure for writers block: stupid poet tricks.

When death, with its sweet obliteration,
Finally acknowledges its joyful obligation.
When my life has reached the end of its duration
And my soul has given up in sheer frustration.

Then I hope you imbibe in bittersweet libation
To honor my impact on your situation,
And relate the tale without pontification
Of my various attempts to bring you liberation.

My goal in life, achieved through conversation,
Was always to connect with those above and below my station
And find the thread through quiet divination
That ties us together in mutual admiration.

So toast my life from first breath to cremation.
Tell the stories of my insubordination.
Remember the times I filled you with trepidation,
And shed a tear for my loss of all sensation.