Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty. - Mother Teresa.
Pickles in a pickled jar,
A song sung to a star!
His eyes breathe to the sky’s par,
Birds thus sing afar...
The wind sings song a bell,
Dreams are his cloud’s waiting tell.
A coin talks to him from a wishing well,
On a road is where the rain thus fell...
Fingernails are agony’s weep,
He writes a poem in his sleep.
The street cries to a song that’s deep,
Freedom speaks to him indeed...
The moon and her treaty,
Asleep is the bed of a needy.
A tree lofts the root neatly,
The wind speaks to him all greedy...
His eyes leave behind a footprint,
The street lamp smiles a tint.
Silver’s where no gold’s a mint,
His hair in a lonely sprint...
His yarn sings to a pillow yearn,
His feet cried to a waking burn...
Heaven reads as his nails learn,
A toe smiles in return!
All that’s gold is not wheat,
Waves can make agony complete!
Birds thus find their fleet,
Hence sang the sky to the shoring greet...
Thank You! http://www.brainyquote.com/
Thank You! http://www.brainyquote.com/
