The Pulse of a Poet

I don’t know if I can pen this.

I can only ever try.

It’s the motion of a dreamer,

Catching thoughts as they pass by.

But will I still remember,

All the words they’d ever say?

All the hopes and dreams and whispers,

That will never go away.

If you find them, would you know them?

Would you ever even dare

To spout off the glowing words,

Without a thought, without a prayer,

Until the dashes all are silent and the people stop and stare,

Would you ever even care?

Would you ever even care?

Copyright 2014 Andrea Lundgren

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