Advice was born in a bowl of clay,
Stretched like smoke, then ran away.
Rode on goats through mountain snow,
And told the trees which way to grow.
Twisted through reeds and curled in stone,
Spoke when the moon was walking alone.
Hands were not raised nor oaths applied
Advice just waited till ego died.
Some wise men bottled and sealed it tight,
Stacked it in towers, away from sight.
Stirred it with ink and dipped it in gold,
Sold it to kings who did as they were told.
It mingled with power and danced with decree,
Later it tasted like wine and stung like a plea.
Soon cracks appeared in every scroll
Advice grew restless and slipped from control.
It leapt from scrolls to village lips,
Then hitched a ride on sailing ships.
Sold for peanuts and tossed mid-air,
It bartered itself for public glare.
Pawned its robe and burned its crown
Advice was free and floating down.
It spread like gossip dressed as glue
Wore a smirk and claimed it knew
Changed its coat with every breeze,
Coughed in crowds and called it ease.
Now it rhymes with pride and clashes with wit
Advice is just a comment, bit by bit.