The Richest Heart
You roll along in fancy steel
Thinking you are a success
While your heart has grown cold
Your things are shiny
Mine are as dull as my flesh
Your nails are trimmed—but soft
Mine are long and hard
Your tongue whips unjustly
Mine comforts your flare
No wrong have I sought
But you taunt me with gold
What use are materials
If you are chained
by the majestic zeal
—James Collins
2024 nov 10
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2024 aug 21
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2024 jun 10
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2023 nov 23
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