I reread the books of my childhood
The ones about war and hope and bravery
And a gold ring
And fire.
How all that glitters is not gold
And all that is gold does not glitter.
Don't delve too deep, or beware
There may be a price
For all your treasure.
The Midas touch can change
So many things.
Roses were not meant to be gold
And a golden heart
Can't really beat at all.