We are all part of the Dead Poets Society,
in that we are all adeptly capable
of free thought and expression.
The difference, between
true romantics and the (in)expressive realists,
lies in the passionate mumblings which echo across prairies.
The difference is simply that we
cling to life, to dreams, to desperation and to death
as though they are the buoys of a great journey - invincible.
While the realists puncture holes
in dreams and death alike,
sinking with abstract thoughts like great boulders - motionless.
The difference between two polar opposites
is the brazen stroke of being
and the frenzied, wild dash of living.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
We are all part of the Dead Poets Society,
in that we are all adeptly capable
of free thought and expression.
The difference, between
true romantics and the (in)expressive realists,
lies in the passionate mumblings which echo across prairies.
The difference is simply that we
cling to life, to dreams, to desperation and to death
as though they are the buoys of a great journey - invincible.
While the realists puncture holes
in dreams and death alike,
sinking with abstract thoughts like great boulders - motionless.
The difference between two polar opposites
is the brazen stroke of being
and the frenzied, wild dash of living.
This came out of nowhere after watching Dead Poets Society, if you can't tell.
Request permission to use this poem