All That Shines Ain’t Gold - Poem by Boniface Mukeshimana
Good at infant’s sight
Of eyes of innocence,
It shines like gold
And feigns gentle touch.
It creeps around the angel’s hand
Like a belt on his waist,
Or a crown on the head of prince.
But oh! ! It mortally bites
To make it feel all that shines ain’t gold.
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