Diamond On a Grass.

Lets stop the game,
of love ,
lust and liars.
Where the,
sellers themselves,
are being the buyers.
Its my,
breathing existence,
not some thing immune,
I aint a puppet,
who will dance to ur tune.
Soon will I realize,
as time will pass,
it wasnt a diamond,
but a dewdrop on a grass.
May be being emotional,
doesn't serve you your bread,
but if living without it,
you are already dead.
Its the great joy of knowing you,
that suppresses the sorrow,
How I wish,
You wernt empty and hollow.