I truly favor being eloquent
And I try to spin my words into gold
But after just a few lines, I am spent
The flush drops from my cheeks and leaves me cold
A delicate glint of light that did shine
Whatever alchemy I thought I saw
That miracle was from nothing of mine
Just rays of sunlight on handfuls of straw
So I retreat and rethink and revise
I pare down, replace gold with grass now dead
Surrender the hope of my searching eyes
To the darkness inside my weary head
No transformation emerges from shame
No liberation by saying a name
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