What I Got When I Challenged My Only Nephew (a very bright young lad) to a Poem Battle

If might above the sword is sought, 

Then I will lift the pen.

But slay, dear uncle, poems do not,

Nor shall mine seek to win.

As for your second message late,

A quibble I'll raise high:

Though you and I will share one fate

And join the dust to die,

These words of ours might still live on.

Not will, I say—but might.

Maybe that's why we soldier on

to bring our words to light.