Money

Canticle

We squander health in search of wealth;

We scheme and toil and save;

Then squander wealth in search of health,

But only find a grave.

We live, and boast of what we own;

We die, and only get a stone.

The love of money is a chain,

Binding souls to greedy pain.

The love of money is a jail,

Bare abode of Hunger pale.

The love of money is a czar,

Lord of slaves that wretches are.

 

  • Author: Henry Canticle (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 22nd, 2018 21:51
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 22
  • User favorite of this poem: Mirrorphen.
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Comments2

  • Mirrorphen

    This is beautifully written, well said.

    • Canticle

      Thank You!

    • MaddieJ

      Bravo Sir!

      • Canticle

        Thank You Ma'am



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