Spectator competition winners: What was Edgar Allen Poe created for?

In Competition No. 3253, you were invited to write a poem entitled ‘Song of Myself’ in the style of the poet of your choice. High
fives all round for a terrific entry, and an honourable mention to Martin Parker/Ogden Nash:

From spermery to wormery via germery and infirmery. Looking back, life has been mostly alas and alack.

The winners pocket £30 each.

live and let unlive my country – ’tis of me i sing: a poet no cap fits as i make love my everflowing spring i am, ergo (i think) i feel no need of why, no deadmen’s rules; a calculated life will fail – the truly wise are wholly fools but always, firstandlast, know this: to see through me is what i plead – don’t speak my words but leave your lips to kiss and use your eyes to see the flowers unread W.J. Webster

Late one night as I sat thinking deeply in my chamber drinking, Eyeing embers’ shadows slinking furtively across the floor, While my mood was bleak and dreary, suddenly I felt an eerie, Ominous and haunting query burning in my bosom’s core: Was I meant for greater glories than to pen detective stories While this winged memento mori’s perched above my chamber door? In a fit of doubt I wondered if my Maker’s hand had blundered; Raging inner demons thundered, ‘What was Poe created for?’ Then the demons, growing frantic, chanted, ‘Let him write romantic Poems touched with necromantic overtones we can’t ignore! Though his critics may be vicious, and biographers malicious, Vile and flagrantly flagitious, time will even up the score.’ ‘Let them call him wretched loser, alcoholic, drunkard, boozer, Melancholic, drug abuser – as they will, but we implore – Though he’ll die depressed and lonely, when they find him lying pronely, Let the living call him only Poe the poet nothing more!’ Alex Steelsmith