Random Reverie

Today I seem to be made of straw,

My feelings raw— Exposed.

I clearly didn’t think this through—

I didn’t know—

I should have known!—

How far I’d fall— so low.

But now I have space to grow, so

Here I go!

Up and down, in and out, to and fro;

I can see it now, the future—it glows!

I hold out my hand to grasp, to hold—

And that is how I turned my pale straw to shiny gold.