An Ode to Muses to Euterpe

Head and Tales

She wore chains of gold and a name across her chest
I wore silver and blue stones to adorn the rest.
Her necklace hit you with every meeting,
While you had to reach for mine with every seating.
She imitated your sunlight's hue,
While I refused to resemble what I thought was you.
I avert my eyes from your dewy glow,
Yet, shiny things attract me, like metal to a crow.
I can't help but sneak peaks of your metallic tint
As I turn away, only to taste pills of mint.
Flattery she practiced, while mockery I worshipped.
Two sides of the outdated coin you use to purchase.
Tokens of the oldest profession
Of which she was merely my underqualified succession.
You bartered with me about the quality of the turquoise payment,
You called it by a different name and devalued my statement.
I don't maintain a full-time position,
Though I put in hours of submission.
I do not belong to your house of disaster.
This is a tent, and you, its ringmaster.