Poem of Poets!

 They say we dream 

and paint the skies,  

With words that bloom 

where silence lies.


But every verse, 

though draped in art,  

Is carved from truth 

within the heart.


We live each thought 

a thousand ways,  

And sense the world 

for endless days.

Each fleeting glance, 

each tender hue,  

Becomes a line 

our souls pass through.

Imagination?—

perhaps it seems,  

But truth is breathing 

through our dreams.

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