A Wealthy Soul
Every time
I start to smile,
something won't allow me.
Everything
that means anything
somehow ceases to be.
As long as
it means anything,
it cannot come about.
Constantly,
I'm trying to climb
out of the deepest hole.
Hoplelessly,
I never find
a happy inner soul.
Oh God!
please tell me
someday it'll change.
Oh please!
Assure me
there will come soft rains.
It's true.
I want to be rich,
but money's not what I'd grab.
Happiness
is not having what you want,
but wanting what you have.March 3, 1994
1 Comments:
hii..am poetry luver..u got sum grt collections here..wonderfuly written..keep gng :)
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