PENSIVE and faltering,
The words, the dead, I write;
For living are the Dead;
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I really dont understand the poem at all, if the living are the dead then why are the happy living, by inferance the happy are the dead
I honestly don't quite understand this poem. I think it has a very good rhythm to it.....it is talking about the dead, but what does everybody think of it?
I think Whitman is referring to himself as a ghost (apparition) , sitting back, being pensive and watching and writing....I don't know for sure...