rumpelstiltskin

Leaning to spin,

Straw into gold.

To give the King,

That which he’s been told

I can give or create,

Or was perhaps created to unfold.

What’s the name?

Do I have to know?

What’s the name?

Without which I cannot sew

Or spin, or turn into gold

That which I’ve been given,

And change it, rightly so.

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