You adorn your chest with mixed metal.
You keep the gold locked away in a safe vessel.
While boasting about your silver adornments,
You wrap them around your finger and make your neck heavy with its assortments.
You say it is the purest, though it turns brown with time.
People wonder why you switched out your former chains for this concubine.
While you announce, "Silver is my new favorite color."
You devalue the image of the dollar.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Muses to Euterpe
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I wrote years ago and have since rediscovered.
