I have the spirit
Of a poor man
When my heart
Is made out of gold—
I live boldly
In peace.
I am kissed by
Raindrops so pure,
As it falls from the
Clouds and graze my skin.
I am loved by those who yearn
More than me.
The longing binds
Us together as our paths cross.
I am trusted by the ones
Who are too weak to hold on.
A single thread leads to
The rescue of broken hearts.
I have the strong hands
Of a mender's,
Awaiting gracefully
To sew back lost dreams.
I refuse to be nothing
But fortunate,
For I have inherited
Riches that will nourish
The world and give hope
To its people.
