"Alas, my dearest darling Goldcorp, why hast thou forsaken me?

You have run away from me and fallen deep down the hillside where i can not follow,

under $45 per share. But perhaps it was I who forsook you?

"I'm sure the fault is not with you, dear - surely you were pushed down there

by the unbelieving heathen who would call you but a holder of barbaric relics?

Or, by the manipulating believers who already know when they will raise you back up

to your former and recent level of grace where you belong.

"Til then, my darling, i wish i could but gather you up and hold you in my arms,

but regretably i have not the funds left with which to acquire any more of you

than the meager portion of you which i am already holding.

Yea, tho all appears bleak around me, i believe:

Someday we'll meet again, some sunny day on the greener heights of the hill,

Ever yours,

in faith and Truth,

Anonymous."