In the heart of bustling Brooklyn, a poet was born,
With eyes that saw beyond the common morn.
He walked with words like leaves on a breeze,
And sang the songs of humanity with ease.
Through fields of grass and crowded streets,
His voice echoed in the rhythm of city beats.
A tapestry woven with vibrant threads,
Of hopes and dreams where every soul treads.
Nature’s lover, with a soul so wide,
He found the universe in every stride.
The whisper of trees, the call of the sea,
Reflected in verses, wild and free.
A legacy left in the folds of time,
His spirit dances in every rhyme.
The world embraced by his gentle hand,
Walt Whitman, a bard of this vast land.