I just thought,

While I'm here,

In this state,

Ignorant,

And oh so poor,

That I would speak,

Just a little bit,

A few things,

About this weird phenomena,

This secret hidden in the sand,

By the overly cautious,

And those who overvalued,

Something so natural,

Something so easy.

Let's just say it,

It's this thing called alchemy.

Only possible because,

Of the subjective way,

We value things,

Not even things!

Sometimes you would kill–

Just for a good idea!

Anyways,

This thing,

Used by merchants,

To exchange goods,

Used by stock traders,

To trade...

What do they trade?

Its hilarious,

They trade potential.

And the artists,

Where I stand amongst,

What do we trade?

We trade from that huge unguarded treasure pile,

Built from things just existing,

We simply trade what was given to us,

By our gentle muse.

So this little thing called alchemy,

Keep it in mind,

When something crosses your mind,

When someone mentions an opportunity,

In that sweet roundabout way,

Keep it in mind,

Because it could be worthless to you,

Like money is worthless to so many,

Keep it in mind,

Sometimes the trash in your hands,

Is providence to a desperate soul.

Even the oh so poor,

Do they not have the devil to trade with?