Poetry is the Sun's ray,
Which never sees to yay,
For a single day,
No matter the days way.

Oil cease to flow,
And riches can stop to row,
Farmers may not always sow,
And sometimes plants fail to grow.

Poetry is clever,
And I dont think can ever,
Stop to flow, however,
Can flow beyound that of the river.

I can never compare with,
Poetry for even a single width.