I write a poem that makes the world see,
a woven thread wherein hearts can be free.
I write a poem that older folks feel,
echoes of wisdom truth that is real.
I write a poem that the youngsters think,
a spark of imaginations a vibrant ink.
I write a poem that made the world known,
in verses and stanzas, our stories are sown.
I write a poem that makes the world blue,
a reflection of sorrow a glance that is true.
I write a poem that makes the older folks cry,
for memories cherished and moments gone by.
I write a poem that makes youngsters mourn,
for dreams that have faded for hopes that are torn.
I write a poem to make the world healed,
with love as the balm and compassion revealed.
I write a poem to make the world smile,
a gentle reminder to pause for a while.
I write a poem to make the older hope,
a bridge to the future a way to cope.
I write a poem to make youngsters believe,
in magic and wonder in all they can achieve.
I write a poem that makes the world start new,
with every fresh dawn, with every bright hue.
I write a poem that makes the world write,
in the ink of our lives, we find our own light.
I write a poem that makes the older sing,
celebrating the joy that each moment can bring.
I write a poem that makes the youngsters read,
in pages of stories, their spirits are freed.
I write a poem, I write a song, I write a story,
a symphony of voices, in all their glory.
I write a poem,
I write a song,
I write a story,
So I can belong.