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Your green eyes glare at me,
I can almost see past Prime Ministers staring,
The Queen wouldn’t be proud of you for what you’ve done,
You are certainly not noble.

I see you break up families,
Divorce settlements seem to suck you dry.
You are the root of wars waged,
But you hide the bodies under dirt.

The earnest man walks by,
Soon enough you’ll hypnotize him with a Versace suit.
The beggar walks by,
you gawk from your palatial mansion.

Is that all we are, gold and diamond rings?
Will pretty things cover up the bad in life?
Well excuse me if I don’t live my life by you.
But wait, won’t that cost me?

Money, what a hyperbole.

Copyright-Jillian Steger 2007