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Heart of Stone

He built his dreams with fire and steel,   Through sweat and pain, through grit and will.   His path was carved with silent nights,   A war he waged beyond the sights.   But love, so sweet, so soft, so near,   Whispered dreams into his ear.   A choice was placed upon his chest—   His passion’s flame, or love’s request.   He turned away from burning light,   Held her close, embraced the night.   Yet soon he found, to his dismay,   Both love and purpose slipped away.   For goals demand a heart of stone,   And love still longs to call its own.   To chase one means to lose the fight,   To hold both tight is rarest might.   So walk the road with eyes aware,   Choose with wisdom, choose with care.   For once you drop what makes you whole,   You lose the fire—and lose your soul.
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Keari

Keari, a man of curious whim,
With a twinkle in his eye so dim,
Proclaimed with fervor, a touch of glee,
"True wealth and health begin with thee!"

"But Keari," some would scratch their heads,
"Wealth lies in gold and comfy beds!
And health in greens and exercise,
Not some strange code, a mere disguise!"

Keari would chuckle, beard a-twitch,
"The zip, my friends, is more than which
Street you reside, the number's hold,
A secret key to stories untold."

"Your ZIP," he'd say, "a postal rhyme,
Holds hidden clues to mastering time.
Fresh air you breathe, the sun's warm rays,
The food you find in local ways."

"Doctors nearby, gyms within reach,
Parks to explore, a calming beach.
Your zip code whispers, soft and low,
The resources wealth and health can grow."

Some scoffed and some began to ponder,
Could zip codes hold such hidden wonder?
Perhaps Keari, with his cryptic air,
Was onto something, a truth to share.

So next time wealth and health seem far,
Think of Keari, beneath a lucky star.
Your zip code might, just maybe, hold,
The key to riches, more precious than gold.

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