Mirror

In molten pit does form most valued wage

While many, stunned, do stare at fortune’s plight

And spit their curse towards the smelter’s face

While he, with grin, extracts the cache despite

.

Is dropping from the lips a glowing ooze,

As well, the flakes of gold within the hair

And waggles of the fingertips produce

A colorful vibration, bright affair

.

So, see the magic bleeding from the eyes

And taste the sharpened edge with calloused thumb

A blade once fit for bread, and far less sized,

Can now engage in war, great feats, become

.

See only each of us the brimming worth

Of others–til now: mirror given, mirth

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