Money

Money is better than barter Money is better than share Money takes you further than you dare Though hands, not money built my walls Hands put together materials to paint my hall Metals I dug came before all. I fell in love with my money Though the kitchen fire was lit by my honey Her hands weaved into mine ever-ready My family was all of four For our morning bread, my wife rolled the nightly dough By mid-morning I was always rolling in dough. My pockets filled with money Heart heaving heavy with pleasure But my real heart had slipped into my belly Pick pockets saw my rich resources Bankers saw my various bulges All overlooked my face coloured by insatiable desires. Hope is real not just a hypothesis Family is special but not essential Beyond my reach was whomsoever I thought special My hands guide me to the alchemist's hole To unearth facts I crawl into their safe-hole Here my soul and heart turned to pure gold. Pickpockets, bankers, wife and relatives all lived till very old My money was in their hold They forgot me eventually but not too soon I came one day as a mendicant to their door They were ready for an ordinary life like before Their look of wantonness I had to ignore. I will lie to be buried not burnt I will not rise again penny-wise With me I will entomb money-culture's vice.