Long Lifemoney Poems
Long Lifemoney Poems. Below are the most popular long Lifemoney by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lifemoney poems by poem length and keyword.
Why are our minds slaves to money? Shiny phones, lots of gold and large amounts of dough,
automobiles and garments. Singing deep in our souls “I want the money, cars and the
clothes”. Wishing for the day when cash is sent there way, I believe most people would call
that one of there, most happiest days.
Money, feel weak without it. Powerful with.
Money will take you all over the globe, sun sets in Thailand to habana cigars in Cuba, from
Sri Lanka to the U.K to attempt to make a lot more money just in the dream of not to be
another poor sunny.
But without wealth you’re wedged by the limitations of your environment which you breathe
and the lack of resources in your neighbourhood. Money has a lot of power in this world.
Which we are slaves to.
Tallan J Bent (c) 20.05.2010 23:22Hrs
Lost.
Lonely.
Full of pain.
He walked up to the church to pray for the first time in over twenty years.
The doors were locked.
When did we start locking church doors?
Confused.
Abandoned.
In need of help.
She entered the psychiatrist’s office seeking professional care.
She had no health insurance and was turned away.
The Hippocratic oath no longer applies.
Destitute.
Hungry.
No money for food.
He tried to donate a pint of his blood.
They no longer offer money in exchange.
The juice and cookie made an unsatisfactory meal.
The slow student sat in the back of the classroom unable to understand the lesson.
The teacher had thirty other students demanding her attention.
She was passed on to the next grade without an education.
He bought a gun at the local Sporting Goods Store in the only civilized country that makes
this so easy to do.
Seventeen random college students have their lives taken from them far too young because
he couldn’t cope with the pressures of an unfair world.
I kiss my six year old’s forehead as he lies, peacefully, sleeping in his bed under Spiderman
sheets, hopeful, that someday, he may make a difference.
alone in a four cornered room
an empty, shallow, feeling doom
no windows, door's locked
more than a prisoner stocked.
proud and arrogant he is
with no friends to miss
live in his pride, pity no other
busy working man, don't try to bother.
wealthy and famous, handsome
young man but boastful Sam
was born with golden spoon in hands
all the world's pleasures in him lands.
above money can give, emptiness still felt
happiness it brought easily melt
people around are fake, no to trust
attacks you in back only money they lust.
alone in a four cornered room
realized now that he must start to bloom
from a tormentor, must open heart and mind
for sure, Sam, true happiness he will find.