Dear El Dorado,

Do I miss you and your gold?

Would I love to kiss you and love to hold?

The answer grows and grows slowly to a resounding no.

With each day that passes, the weeds will take hold.

One day a forest will grow and grow.

I don't think anything will make me notice you once more.

A rediscovery could be foretold.

It would be tragic, as you shine like gold.

And the hurt inside of me will certainly unfold.