I plant each poem like a seed,  
into the soil of Hello Poetry,  
where words bloom, bright or shy
a garden growing as days go by.  

Two hundred seventy-seven blossoms strong,  
each verse a thread, each thought a song.  
But oh, the dream, the quiet plea,  
to tip the scale of symmetry.  

For sixty-three souls have found the hue,  
of my written worlds, my skies of blue.  
Yet in whispers deep, ambition stirs,  
to gather more hearts where poetry whirs.  

More hands to hold these fragile blooms,  
more voices to echo their subtle tunes.  
Followers to surpass the poems I’ve sown
a milestone carved in my heart's stone.  

So I keep writing, planting anew,  
each word a bridge to those who pursue.  
One day, I’ll stand where dreams collide,  
where followers and poems walk side by side.  

And with each new soul who joins the feast,  
this garden of words shall never cease.