There Is A Garden In Her Face,
Where Roses And White Lilies Blow;
A Heavenly Paradise Is That Place,
Wherein All Pleasant Fruits Do Grow.
There Cherries Grow That None May Buy,
Till Cherry Ripe Themselves Do Cry
Drop The Idea Of Becoming Someone,
Because
You Are Already A Masterpiece.
You Cannot Be Improved.
You Have Only To Come To It, To Know It, To Realize It...
