The Plight of a Poor Man

Falling, shimmering stars from under bright orbs

Ringed with blackness,

Her tears capture another heart.

It selflessly beats to protect her,

To fill her seemingly empty life,

To end her assumed misery.

He offers the sun and moon—

Who only obey the One

That established their place in the sky,

And who do not stray from those

Trails which Providence blazed—

For he does not own the earth.

Yet the only treasure

Which would replace the shine on her cheeks

Can be found nowhere but deep within

That which he does not own;

That is, the sparkle of a diamond.