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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