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.
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