The Poets Followers request

The Poets Followers request

the silence, my words take flight,

A whisper to the stars, a plea for light.

I carve my heart into each line,

Hoping someone will pause, see, and find.

Each verse is a seed I long to sow,

But the soil feels empty, and the winds don’t blow.

A poet’s dream, to be seen, to be known,

To watch as words, like leaves, are gently grown.

But still, I write, my fingers bleed,

For in the quiet, I plant the seed.

Though unread, the ink will never cease,

For each stroke carries a prayer for peace.

If you read these lines, know they are yours,

A shared space where my heart endures.

For in the world of silence, where dreams feel cold,

Your gaze turns the ink into stories untold.

The Poets Followers request