There exists gold, that glitters, and shines.
But we should always remember that it's no different from any other metal.
We try to cover ourselves with gold, which most of us just yearn, but cannot achieve, even it's no important than a dying flower's petal.
People think they shine with gold, like they will never flounder in any other fold, which is thought to be a hold.
They think they'll be remembered, by the flock of others, which they don't care if they're red or silver, or gold, as a whole.
But they themselves, as the adverse they have thought, they are nor recalled or aroused.
It's the gold that covers the places where the gold has rusted, where they have ever existed. However, no single individual will ever remember the fallen gold, even if they are a member, of the gold.
The gold that showed great luster that has glared through the light, now is forgotten, even by the old.
Will never recover, from its own bluster.
This is my first poem I have ever wrote, about 4 years ago.