I’m paid without price, yet I’m costly indeed, In coin or in chorus, I answer the need. I’m offered in silence, in speeches, in song, To heroes, to rulers, to those who’ve been wronged. I rise in a toast or I bow in respect, In statues and stories I’m carefully kept.

Tighten or loosen, I love the small fight, I grip silver circles and squeeze them just right. I turn nuts and bolts with a twist of my will.

A liquid cloak for walls to wear, Brightens spaces with a flair, With every stroke, new stories bare, A coat of magic, rich and rare.

First part: where the sea meets the sandgrains. Next: where you go when you have terrible pains. Together we protect your tabletop from stains.

You sit on me when you can't decide. But don't you know the grass is always greener on the other side?