Reflected in the silver
is my ghost of madness.
Lost in the etchings in copper
is the memories I have repressed.

I scratched the words in metal,
but it didn't change a thing.
Something made so permanent,
cannot be changed,
even with a cover or facade.

I threw the coins in the fountain,
but,
they were in my pocket the very next day.

It was change,
that I couldn't get rid of.

I made wishes on silver, and copper,
and even on the metal in my pockets,
and the gold in my earrings,
but they never came true.

Reflected in the silver,
is my madness that I suppress.
Painted dark in copper
are the faults I'd like to hide,
but I can't get rid of them,
and they're too much to carry.