About Caleb's Money
Down to his last silver dollar,
Had been for many a year,
Caleb felt rich as long as
He had that last dollar near.
He’d made a million, believe it.
And through his fingers, went it all
He was terrified of being poor,
So he worked or stole for anything at all.
He’d set his value on money,
(God told us not to do that},
He just couldn’t help himself,
Always wore a new felt hat.
Didn’t have a love, no friends,
Couldn’t spend money on those,
Had a little dilapidated book,
The finest condo, rows and rows of clothes.
Alone in his Armani suit,
One night he felt sick and bleak,
A walker found him in the snow.
Frozen tears covered his cheeks.
Still, though, down in his pocket
Forever it would be
That last shiny silver dollar,
A slave, though he thought he was free.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2018
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