Sonnets from a Lock Box - Part of 12

Inscribe in austere characters this screed.
‘As in a golden urn here lies the dust
Of a poor boy whose dreams were so august
He might have changed the earth’ … all you, take heed!
You fond and foolish traffickers in greed
And spend not rashly what you hold in trust.
For you are unwise stewards and unjust,
That bartering childhood achieve wealth indeed.
In this bright coin shining like the sun
His passion glows and his brief visions burn.
But what the great deeds are he might have done
Are secrets that we shall not ever learn.
I take this coin in my hand as one
Lifts priceless ashes in a funeral urn.
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