In the quiet spaces between delivery and death,
The Dash Poem speaks in a single breath,
A line so small, but it holds a lot,
The essence of lifestyles, the gentle contact.
The Dash Poem captures what’s unseen,
Moments lived, each serene and keen,
It’s no longer the years on either aspect,
But the dash poems in which testimonies live.
In the short pause, in which lives unfold,
The Dash Poem tells of hearts ambitious,
Of love given, of dreams pursued,
Of paths chosen, of fears subdued.
The Dash Poem is more than a mark,
It’s the mild within the darkish, the flame’s small spark,
It’s where we linger, in which reminiscences stay,
In the sprint poem, life finds its manner.
Beneath the surface, in that simple line,
Lies the laughter, the tears, the divine,
The Dash Poems is wherein we’re really seen,
In the areas among, wherein lifestyles have been.
So as we stroll through this globe’s enormous maze,
Let us remember, in all our days,
The Dash Poems is wherein our legacy lies,
In the moments lived, underneath open skies.
For within the sprint poem, we find the reality,
In the whispers of age, the echoes of children,
It’s no longer the start or the quit that stays, But the dash poems that fills our days.