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A book cannot be judged by its cover.
A new day, a pristine morning,
It's time for the manifestation of my dreams;
I start my day,
slow but steady,
sitting, yet zestful;
Working as slow as a sloth,
that’s what those appraising eyes would say;
With a firm grasp and a watchful study, I start my journey;
Nothing less than in a race as a tortoise, I proceed;
A cover of a book cannot conclude a book,
and not from my gestures either;
I may be much measured with my maneuvers, but my mind traverses long light-years faster than lightning;
I create, I entertain;
Link all the untold, the implausible;
I am an artist,
A writer;
I am just another living.
© diligent _explorer
It's time for the manifestation of my dreams;
I start my day,
slow but steady,
sitting, yet zestful;
Working as slow as a sloth,
that’s what those appraising eyes would say;
With a firm grasp and a watchful study, I start my journey;
Nothing less than in a race as a tortoise, I proceed;
A cover of a book cannot conclude a book,
and not from my gestures either;
I may be much measured with my maneuvers, but my mind traverses long light-years faster than lightning;
I create, I entertain;
Link all the untold, the implausible;
I am an artist,
A writer;
I am just another living.
© diligent _explorer
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