Who is me?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
We are perfect designs of the perfect creator. This poem is about you and I.

Submitted: January 10, 2012

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Submitted: January 10, 2012

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Who is me? Someone asked. But with levity and interest I replied, I am neither white nor black, Simply the colour of a perfect God, Who created the heavens and the earth, White or black are just misinterpretations; Am simply made from the finest nourish dust, The core of God. I am a genius of history, I have lived through times, I have fought in many worlds, Plagued with many incurable diseases, Exceeding the limit of human possibility, Which threatens to overwhelm my eternity, But yet am still the same. Am the most valuable presentable dust, Where pure gold and coal are found, Where pure minerals are gotten, Name those precious whatever, They are my embodiment. I am like money, coin or paper, They are also from dust, Take me, roll me, squeeze me, crush me, I am still the same. Am the product of productive exchange, However, I can reproduce to become a multi-billion naira; Am the feely currency, and because am current, Everyone wants to meet me, Its not pride, but a price. All because am loaded, I will be needed; And because he who is in me is greater than the world, I can conquer, overcome, and succeed; And since the breath of God is in me, Death is just an illusion, I will die to live forever. I am an everlasting element of success, Anyone who hear me, see me, will call me blest. All because am the image of the perfect God. Who is me? I am the excellent image of the perfect architect, You see me, you truly have seen God's image.


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