Poetry 73

You are not the colors of rain,
You are the blood in every vein.

You are not the summer’s shade,
You are the hope when everything fade.

You are not the curve of my happiness,
You are the tear in my every joy.

You are not the medicine to every sickness,
You are my every age toy.

You are not the river that flows in me,
You are the ocean that surrounds me.

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