Brass that masquerades as gold,
Fit for any photo-fit, a counterfeit concealed.
I know, I know you,
Hiding naive amber under the Sun,
When you need not be devalued.
Glass that tries a diamond life
Won't shine the same despite its cut.
Not fit for their crowns-
The product of sand and not finer science-
But you don't need to be.
Gold is silent; brass can sing,
Your panes aren't made from diamond rings.
To change the way you were when born
Defames the way I love your form.