Mar 2014
I whisper the same words to all who pay attention
yet, to all, conveyed is a different image.
Restrained to the page I lie, free for interpretation
both depth and simplicity, words without age.
I am myself, but I am each who read me
The outlet of untold thoughts begging desperately
to be free.
yet, to all, conveyed is a different image.
Restrained to the page I lie, free for interpretation
both depth and simplicity, words without age.
I am myself, but I am each who read me
The outlet of untold thoughts begging desperately
to be free.
I was just thinking about why I love words. To me, a poem can be shared by everyone everywhere because the unchanging words convey a different meaning to each of us. It touches us each in a different way that pertains to our lives.
