I say it to myself that I will keep on writing
Even when I get old,and my eyes get poor
from seeing
I will let my hands write what my heart tells
And fill the paper with the ink where it dwells
I won’t stop penning a poem, a piece of my art
For I know the inspiration will never subside
within my heart
This is the most luminant thing than a piece of gold
Forever will be shared even if I’ll get so old
Life is more precious if I dig my purpose
Sharing the inspiration from my own little world
Life is not a matter of richness but by deeds
I have done
Forever will be remembered even when
I’m gone