Thousands or millions
Use the ink of an ocean
Still the clear face shall never be written
Each time I see the face
I face
The temptation of wring
On face while seeing
I find no vulgarity
But the message of an almighty
‘The beauty is to show’
The wind has to blow
What are we today?
How do we spend day?
Look at some good body moving
‘Praise in worlds’ and falsely proving
So I seize the chance
Cease an attempt
And show some respect
With my act

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