I know Bob Dylan well. <br />Grew up with him, <br />We all did. <br />He was the voice <br />We didn’t have. <br />Said the words <br />We didn’t know to say. <br />Such words. <br />He saw and sang <br />Of things we saw <br />Yet wouldn’t speak about. <br />Where we were awkward, <br />He was talkin’ out. <br /> <br />For forty years <br />I’ve looked up, <br />Listened up, to him. <br />Now changed, aged, yet <br />Both forever young, <br />I’m glad we grew together <br />In interesting changing times. <br />We never met, <br />But it’s alright. <br />We spoke. <br />We played our parts. <br />He needed me to listen all along. <br />The singer sings <br />So others hear the song.<br /><br />Martin Swords<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bob-dylan-and-me/
