In lands far away,
They repair pottery with gold,
Embracing the imperfect,
All of those cracks and chinks,
Vases and lacquerware,
Gnawed by the fangs of time,
Becoming streams of halcyon,
Legacies emblazoned with platinum,
It’s an artform all its own,
Perhaps mankind too could be repaired,
Imagine the sight of it,
Replacing the damaged history with aureate metal,
Yet it begs the question,
Would gold be more valuable than our storied dents?
Are they not too,
Worth their weight in gold?
WorldofHarley 