Riches like witches Makes one desire To become wrap Fast like a sap To hold for a while That others will wrap Before our eyes We miss the goal as we got old We have sold our soul As we were told It was hard to fold The silver and gold Made an evil worthless soul To hate God and man With that wicked hand To enjoy the pleasures That will never be As that desire ended Like trash When that day The stock market crash! -Joe Cervantes

Categories: Business Desire Dreams Sad


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