All that glisters

With a rotting verdigris shell
But pure gold gold to the core

The forgotten things
The little things

A bitter and sweet smell
That burns and bleeds
Not red
But a tangerine dual-chrome

The beautiful things
The empty things

Hidden underneath the crushed gravel of your doorstep
Under dirty half smiles and
Diamante tears

The ugly things
The dead things

And all that glisters