Poetry -Money

I am a cruel master

I am your obedient slave

You can chase after me

or let me chase you

I am not evil neither am I a saint

My whips are subtlety and hypnosis

Continuously dangling carrots before

You never getting enough till greed

consume your family, friends and health

Leaving you broken and empty

I determine where your emotions swing

Because I am your master

But the wise had mastered me

I hate to admit that to your face

They wouldn’t let me run them

Contentment is their bodyguard

A slave I shall remain in their eyes

My name is money

He that gathered riches by crook, lacking wisdom

Shall leave it in the midst of his days

“Here lies a fool” shall be engrave

Atop his polished and expensive marble tomb


Let be friends on instagram:@wittyboss

TheDreamMedia 2017. All Rights Reserved.


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