The Imagination of Contemporary Poet
For years the way goes north
And turns away till its round
Thousand of hundreds it may take
For the right word to be found
It comes to a master piece
And the world will cherish his memories
The years may change so may the seasons
Leaves may die, get a new life, and fill out the naked trees
Yet he smiles his way in the white floor
With his dynamic thoughts and hands
For it may be just a while
Until again he joins his fellow sands
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