In the bustling streets of Brooklyn, he roamed,
With verses like whispers, seeds he had sown.
A voice of the people, bold and unchained,
In the tapestry of life, his spirit remained.

Leaves of grass beneath his feet,
Nature’s symphony, his heart’s retreat.
In solitude and crowds, he found his place,
An eternal seeker of the human race.

He sang of the body, the soul, and the sea,
In every word, a quest to be free.
Boundless and brave, his spirit soared,
A beacon for those who dared to explore.

As night descends and stars appear,
His legacy whispers in the ear.
Walt Whitman, a soul unconfined,
In every line, his heart defined.