poetry : The sleeping Poet.
It takes a thousand call to get me,
A million love to reach my heart,
A billion smiles to release one of mine,
but a true heart to make me move.
Even rich people are found in Zimbabwe.
There are very poor people in Wealthy America,
Even the super rich let river of sorrow flow.
Don't burn your candles during the day,
never shoot into the dark,
you can stop believing in yourself, but tell no one.
People fall in love for various reasons,
make sure you're not overly selfish,
love will eat your brain,
how long it takes people get your call,
shows who you're to them.
As I write this stanza,
I made my bed with gold,
it's illustrious and inviting.
Am gonna have to see you again.
I am throwing my smile for a million ones.
Stay happy,
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