The color
Of Money
Is the

Color of greed
Grab
What you can

Take
What you need
A wishful

Thinker
Lives
In the past

Climbed on
The world
That went by

Too fast
More temper
Than

Imagination
Portrait of
A losing side

Opinions formed
Without
Taking time

To care

The stone thrower

Broke the windows of his glass house
Thoughtless search
For a

Scapegoat
A human coin
On edge

For a time
Having a fallout
All of his own


Hungry for
Want of gentleness

A carnival story
With absence
Of scenes

Slightly tilt
And left
Of center

He can rum
A four minute mile
Just as long as

He was chasing
A fast buck


Sour man
Sit in the rubble
Of your own making

Feed off your own
Disillusions


When your irrational
It's always a sorrow
A thin line into

The dust

Sour man

Feed off your own
Disillusions
Sit in the rubble

Of your own makings