Topic: Old Lady Cries
This is a poem about an old lady telling her son that money doesn’t always make you happy written from both view points her and her sons. The son has taken a job with big dollars working for a corporation that has no ethics. Its not a true story its just made up due to it been a wet cold day here.
Old Lady Cries.
The old lady cries.
You want to give your family dollar numbers.
The corporates use empty words.
A numb me can’t completely avoid her words.
For a dollar reward.
I will join the material hoard.
Salute the chairman of the board.
Chasing bigger numbers.
Counting dollars in my sleep.
Chasing those extra noughts.
Filling my thoughts,
What once was ten now has to be a million.
I live in a new world.
I am just one of many.
Looking for a pretty penny.
One of many money worriers.
No longer a warrior.
She think’s I’m easily deceived.
Cutting of my knights armour.
Throwing away my sword.
For a good dollar reward.
Old lady cries.
You thrown away your sword.
No longer prepared.
To cut through empty promises.
This is the right time for you to be a doubting Thomas.
Their full of shallow promises.
Their not your saviour.
Their money wont do you no favours.
Why does the old lady see things different to me.
The corporate Kings.
Always will do their thing.
Succeed with their invading sting.
The corporate Kings.
Say all sorts of false things.
I will take their dollar and buy all sorts of material things.
Old lady cries.
They will throw you away.
Little thanks once they have made their hay.
You say you got to survive.
Keep my family alive.
Your love of material possession will lead you to depression.
Man made created things are a temporary fling.
Don’t worry old lady.
I’m thrown away my sword for a dollar reward.
I’m thrown away my sword for a dollar reward.