Some Gold, Before I'm Dead Please Poem by Smoky Hoss

If I were a digger
of silver and gold
and a spinner of tales
brave and bold,
would a treasure
I find
in the caverned depths
of earth or mind?
Could I dig
with tools of the trade
into a priceless vein
with unfathomable riches waylaid?
Or am I
a mere dreamer,
an empty and pointless
schemer,
lacking the skills
of hope,
an arrogant and ignorant
hapless bloke?
Who knows,
who can say,
there yet may
come a day,
when the worth of silver
and gold in my heart
shall pale in comparison to stories
new and old,
in which I am a part.
Still, wonder
as I must,
what may yet happen
before I return to dust.
A prospector of words, or metals,
which shall be my fate?
I only hope to discover soon...
for the time and date,
do grow quite late.