Help rank my 2030 four line poems by contributing your votes to a Ladder. (see Ladder)


But October leaves, at midnight!!
Hold-the ocean-boats to wind!
It will pry the-riddle once-again.
From the hands of men.
If I look at that star with all my station.
All mistakes great-men made are "hue".
Like that way all men turned into granite.
Celebrate with no world's undo.

What do you think?
Poem one is best    Poem two is best