Serendipity Poem by Moz Rauf

Why do I call myself Tom Sawyer?
Well, we are rebels
Painting church walls
In desire of the preacher’s daughter
The magnificent little girl
Mistakes for gold skin
And an electric soul
Running blunt ends
Into a smooth overture
But we know better than the philosopher’s stone
And I know even better
Than a pious alchemist’s dream
For copper is mistaken for gold
In blind ravishing moonlight
Of passionate summer nights
Under the spell of that great metronome
That slickly ticks by.

But when the lily bloom days pass me by
I would paint those church walls red
For then my commarade, you may tell
Copper from Gold.