Gold is a lie
Spread across the sky
Painting in gilded promises
But they are untrue
For gold is often just a front
For the rot underneath
YOU ARE READING
Gentle Reminders of You
Poetryoh, reader, my reader, please don't hate what you are about to read they come from a part of me deep inside buried beneath blood and flesh warped in anger and weeping challenged in love changed in trust bound by hope and they are yours
gold
Gold is a lie
Spread across the sky
Painting in gilded promises
But they are untrue
For gold is often just a front
For the rot underneath
