Playing With Money...

When you find a semblance of peace

And grief is all that you see
That is the price to pay for being poor.

Would you hang yourself with debt?
Gamble your life for a check.
Or would you just keep charging on?

Could you write a receipt, compiling your deeds,
Without a tax for the things you've sought? 
Should the tender ring, for the change that you seek,
Is it the Trust, that you counted on?

The Wolf that you reap

The Bull in the street

(Fattens) The Hog on the farm

May the company you keep, be the ones in your reach

When aiming for the buck...

Will your hours cease, as your interests peak?

Should your work divvy its share to the lot?

Corruption and greed, sowing their seeds

Burying its cost in our lawn