Long ago, there
was a poet
A poet who
bought words
By arranging the
beautiful words
he purchased
He gained the fame
that allowed him to
avoid loneliness
And the wealth to live
a trouble-free life
One day the poet
met a village girl
And wanted a
word that could
express to her
The gallop of his
heart and the
tremolo that
overcame his brain
The poet
bought up as many words
as he could
But could not
find one that
fit perfectly
Time passed; his
wealth ran out
The poet eventually
died a sad end
That sunny morning'
many tears were shed
Many funeral songs
were played
But there were no
words of condolence
The poet had
already bought
them all up
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