I write to live as my heart beats. No one shall misconstrue it as anything but my heart beating. Sick, weary of life, afraid of what's to come, tired of striving, ashamed of what I have missed, I listen respectfully and take from its rhythm the thought to make nothing else matter but the steady beating of my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALMANACH DU PRINTEMPS VIVAROIS by HAYDEN CARRUTH WHEN I AM DEAD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH BROTHERHOOD (2) by EDWIN MARKHAM |