My heart broke in New Mexico,
But I made love in the San Juans,
Forgave you in the Tetons,
And washed you away in the Colorado.
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Poetry is the breath of life. It lives, it breathes. That’s what poetry does. It’s alive. It can evoke the strongest emotions from humans. Poetry is spiritual and shouldn’t be taken lightly. Poetry is the mana of the soul. It feeds hunger, and it comforts despair. It is the lasting vestige of hope that man feeds from. It’s the cool water at the end of an 1000 mile journey. It propels. It sustains. It’s the glue that repairs broken hearts.