Tin gold
Not any more and not at all
Am I an innocent sweet girl.
I'm thirty-three -
The age of Christ
When he was blackened, tortured, killed.
He got reborn. None else did it.
I looked for magic but found shame
Through which I'm looked at every day.
I picked up shreds of useless hope
To make my own kaleidoscope,
To wipe off past, to throw away
My sorrows into the dark drain.
And it's my only lie and sin.
My gold is nothing but your tin.
20/06/2018
