I’ve heard tales of a White Gold,

Whose value was worth wealth untold.

It was better than Oil, Jade and Amber;

These things were seen as something lesser.


Despite its name, it could not be bought or sold,

Only inherited from mothers and fathers old.

No need for death or will,

But inheritance was the only way to gain it, still.


Though those with the Gold can preach,

Commodity equality between treasures of every shade,

Those of us with eyes have seen,

The lives of those with Oil, their pain, their fate.


But where I come from, White Gold is rarer,

Which keeps its value relatively low.

Instead we have something better,

We have Gold in shades of Yellow.


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