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We all move to the beat of different drums,
dancing to the tempos of heart-songs.
Lyrics inscribed like DNA,
solos never meant to be silenced ,
but belted out and , sung aloud and bold,
with the full breath of lungs.
When voices join, we are a chorus,
a concerto of colors,
circadian rhythms and blues.
We echo each other’s hues.
Because music never dies
it lives on,
in the collective pulse.
I'm not a poet. These words are my "heart-song." Though flawed in delivery, they are written with genuine intent to honor the Pulse victims, freedom of expression and humanity's shared community.
©2025 SHI. All rights reserved. All images, including base, evolutionary and final, as well as expressed content and narrative associated with original alias “Bailey’s Mom” are prohibited from use.