No soul ever asks
For trials and tribulations.
Not one man alive
Would seek to have
His heartstrings snapped,
Crawling out of one's skin
As it cracks and it peels.
No one would wish
To be re-cut as a puzzle,
To reassemble oneself, -
Pieces scattered around.
Yet, embracing the flaws
Mending dishes with gold
Is the art of re-writing
One's precious history,
Extrinsically valuable
To the Observer Above.
Kintsugi is ever-growing
In value and skill,
Appreciation is rising
For stories rebuilt.
The treasure of one's days
Could easily be lost,
In the haze of a hurry,
In confusion of chase.
So make sure you weave
Them tight in a scroll,
So not one drop of gold
Escapes unrecorded.
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