Topic Friend of the Grumbles
Like a hand of a luckydo,
a cool and monetary feeling,
like a fist full of luckydos,
the market controlling its packs,
like a hand upon many good fortunes,
as you watch it bends in softness,
like a hand touching dirty yaks,
every moment leaves you to wander the trails,
like a hand in the frozen luckydo,
your savings smell of good luck,
all detail matters,
and every inch is art,
I could tell you about a reason,
to love a moment like this.
Original poem do not steal.