A short poem on trust.
Trust isn't something you can put into words,
It's not an emotion or a living thing,
Tendencies are wasted on time.
It's not an object,
But still an item of desire,
To obtain it you walk on the line.
It's treated like gold that has no solid form,
Not liquid, not gas,
Worth all the money and cash.
You cannot buy it with jewels,
Or by begging on your knees,
It'll just descend like a phoenix into ash.
Such a pure and holy thing,
Worshipped by many but guarded with doubt,
It may glitter but is it really golden?
Trust is something to earn with truth,
It cannot be bought,
But for liars it can be stolen.