1 of 100 and 1 of a Million to come

One of a hundred, and one of a million to come If Shakespeare had met you, your name would have never died For it would have lived in literature till the end of time The smoothest stone in the Arctic would have lay at your feet The graves scream when you pass by, for they see such life in you And without you, what a spooky world it would be My bones would crush, my stomach would bleed I would die within Your breath is that of life The hummingbirds flapping their wings Is a testament to the way my heart reacts When it sees You