The Great Poet on His Deathbed

The great Nobel Prize winning poet lay on his deathbed with his wife of fourty years and family surrounding him. The room was filled with cards and flowers from his loving fans and admirers. Members of the press stood outside the door trying to get a glimpse of the famous man. His wife held his hand, weeping, repeating his name over and over, and saying, "Don't leave me. Don't leave me." And what was the last thought that ran through the great man's head as he took his final breath? It was: "Maybe one day I will be recognized for my gift. Maybe soon." And he was.