A poem I love

Not Waving But Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving, but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no, no, no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

Stevie Smith
(September 20th 1902 - March 7th 1971)

I remember the first time I heard/read this poem and it just 'blew me away' and it still has an amazing impact on me. Some might say it has become a 'cliche' poem but not for me. The words mean so much to me in many ways, some that I can't even explain. I always want to read it out loud and let the words wash over me, each line, each word making me feel, making me think. I hope this is what poetry is supposed to be like, I know that this poem will always be wonderful to me and always mean so much. I guess I have answered my own questions.