Money

When I had money, money, O!
I knew no joy till I went poor;
For many a false man as a friend
Came knocking all day at my door.
Then felt I like a child that holds
A trumpet that he must not blow
Because a man is dead; I dared
Not speak to let this false world know.
Much have I thought of life, and seen
How poor men’s hearts are ever light;
And how their wives do hum like bees
About their work from morn till night.
So, when I hear these poor ones laugh,
And see the rich ones coldly frown—
Poor men, think I, need not go up
So much as rich men should come down.
When I had money, money, O!
My many friends proved all untrue;
But now I have no money, O!
My friends are real, though very few.

by William Henry Davies

Comments (7)

VANNY MORGAN IS RIPPER / ICQ 744587481! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! ! ! ! ! RIPPER! ! !
With industrialization and rise of technology, Nature seems to fading slowly but surely, hence I love this poem as my feelings are akin to that of the poet's.
Wow! I'm just amazed! Honest Truth of life..
A bitter truth of human relationships which is considerably influenced by the Money.
Oh... the poor man might deserve a little raise, and the rich man just might be better off brought down quite the way, -o God forbid! - almost to the poor man's miserable level. If you find that so wrong and abusive I feel you have no heart or have seen nothing, or can't see past your class system perhaps...
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