I know not of a poet mute,
unless he's without hands.
And a poet without dreams,
is just another man.
Just how much they shape the world,
we may never understand.
What poets give to us in words,
are as diamonds in the hands.
Not words that are of pettiness,
but deep on which to stare.
Words that often make us think,
of better ways to care.
Words we read and fell a need,
to find a way to share.
A view of life that we need heard,
how we need a poets words...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.