Dew Drops and Mist Rain

Ribbon waves slip through smoke
sounds that have no form.
Shifting outlines of half-thought
dreamings cluttering against the clouds
as though climbing toward light.
And so, they whisper, cling to unopened
lips, breathe imaginary breath.
As they die against the morning rays,
they say;
Live.

Uhh...

I liked the peom, buttt i couldn't understand it, probably 'cause i'm much more immature, stupid rather , than you are, soo....yeah. But i bet if i was 2o too, i'd like it. xD

I'm not saying that it was bad or you didn't do your job as a writer, just that it's my fault i didn't get it..

Uh, although i don't know what it had to do with the title...I think that would be the only correction.