'What is your favourite number? '
You asked me
The mischevious smirk
On your lips
Lighting up your eyes
The dusty red and black
Book you got from the library
With white numbers
On the cover
In your hands
It is the begining of all...'
Mine is 'one'...
Because it builds
Every other number...
Everything else is just lots of ones...! '
Except for zero....'
Rowving Smith's Other Poems
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