The Day-Trader
Why must that jagged line dictate your mood,
demanding you be left in solitude.
The glow illuminates more than you know,
a face disfigured by the constant woe.
A fortune to be had if patience ruled,
for over-eager men are always fooled.
As weather would shift daily with the breeze,
each year goes by unchangingly with ease.
Likewise does this business give and take,
those cents on which we daily concentrate.
But if that pointer would be kept at bay,
and lust reigned in to wait just one more day,
a greater happiness would soon replace,
the shadow of frustration on your face.
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