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 Harry Sweeden. My life in verse.

geishacountrypoetpoetry759
Money gods


(The money hole)


Beckoning from your towers,
Calling us all too prayer.
You tell us we must all pray hard…
Our money gods need more shares.
You click… we come running,
Pleading to be the “one”.
The one that can feed his kids…
While tonguing out your bum.
Where is this equality?
I once heard was coming soon.
It's been coming now for fifty years…
And still our lives are doomed.
Doomed to be always beckoned.
Doomed to never have control.
Always led by the nose…
Too the money hole!








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