The Wealth Within

This is the tale of the man who lives in the street

He has narely a shirt on his back nor shoes on his feet

His hope is tattered, his energy worn

His only emotions are sickness and scorn

He scuffles along, alone in the dark

To lay down by an oak tree that stands in the park

Hungry and cold, he closes his eyes

As he starts to dream, he suddenly dies

But, in his last moments he was king for a day

Venturesome imagination ~ Miracle play !

His dreams were of kingdoms, diamonds and wealth...

....Even despair exhausts itself.