e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

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My gold

Gold

If you were the rod
Straight, bent or round
Your shades will be gold.
Never you look down,
Walking down the road
None should make you fold.

You are the King’s crown
Better than silvers
And copper made bronze..
Don’t be misled
By social values
You worth more than those.

Silvers may reflect
The rays of sun light
But you are their fright.
A gold dust same as
Mega tonnes of diamonds
Sparking under light…

You are not an iron
So common in town,
Nor dark shades that rust.
You are not a wood
A bug food that rots;
You are made of gold.

Heavy, light or thick,
You are not a steel
Prone to fatigue.
You are the premium
Superior to all
Yellow shade to hold.


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