"Rimi and Wings"
In the pocket – the wind whistles,
The dream calls: “Act, seek!”
One day, but a thousand plans,
You’ll find money – just don’t give up!
You’ll sell old trinkets,
Or lend a hand to someone,
And coins will fall into your wallet
Without any extra pain.
Never lose hope,
Everything will come in its time,
You’re determined, you have will,
Forward, towards wonders.
The city buzzes with its noise,
I walk among the light and advertisements.
A smartphone in hand – like a compass,
And thoughts fly far away.
The coffee is still hot, words are yet to be spoken,
The music in the headphones reminds me of you.
And even in the rhythm of the mundane
There’s room for dreams and freedom
Money jingles in pockets,
Like little demons calling after them.
They shine like neon lights at night,
But they don’t warm the soul, don’t heal loneliness.
Someone runs after them, like after empty light,
Counting bills, stacking coins into piles.
Others lose the night, steps, laughter,
Because the chase for numbers hides life.
Money opens doors,
But not the heart, not thoughts, not dreams.
They buy luxury, but not happiness,
They have power, but not peace.
People build castles from banknotes,
Construct walls from loans and bills.
But true wealth is moments,
That cannot be measured in numbers.
And yet they flow through life,
Like water between fingers —
Sometimes they help, sometimes betray,
And always remind of themselves with a chime.
Money is just a tool,
And their power lies in the hands of those who understand.
You can lose everything that seems valuable,
But not lose your own soul — that’s the true value.
Rhymes fly like the wind in the night,
Wings carry thoughts high.
Words burn, the heart soars —
This is where my flight begins.
Each rhyme is a gust of wind,
Each wing is a step into the sky.
The flight begins here and now.
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