Money Masters Men!

I took notes
And counted coins
The library got full
The safe overflew

He saved one and expended all
Harvest never came
He found the labourers footprints
Depressed in their bags of shame. Leon
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Fast lane, quick change
With loads to spend and also to remain
Wages and papers spent like toilet papers
Benjamin leaks often so he wears diapers

Swift change from the speed lane
Off the road, through the tar pane
Abundance played a jeepers creepers
Where it once rained, there lay a desert
Hybrid
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I provided help with shaky heart
like the rising of the ocean wave
My earnings, hurried to cart
Profit was for the brave

Alas! greed clouded my vision
More! More! My heart screamed!
Resounded by voices of a thieving nation.
Aya! Now my hair and pockets are trimmed!
-OracLe
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Ice will break definitely
And be shared evenly
Devoid of ill, each share be given
even to impure hands, equally

Then, it happened so
it wasn’t planned as done
One money earner cheated the other
They’re all now married to none.
-Silvia
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Like the man with two talents,
I dug the ground and buried coins.
Too scared to spend, spending still,
The thrill of squandering someone’s sweat.

30 days gone, it’s time to dig,
I came bearing a wide shovel.
With shiny eyes i hit my mark,
Only a heap of rusty round metals.
Vera
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Dele didn’t sit by with his armstrong.
He fondled for naira to bury for long
He would smile and say ‘I will reach there’
“Don’t you know Shylock?” He’ll never hear.

We are all sitting listening to this same song
How loss married his Naira with no ding dong
I just want the one you borrowed from me, I don’t care
Talk to the devil, let him give you your share. – Ruddapoet
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Merchandise on sale their tags read.
All who passed by were plied for trade.
Hearts turned brittle. Souls were bled
In coin of pleasure, Death bed unsaid.

With every touch and tug and tryst.
Eyes lost sight. Skin lost bite.
Where once was fire, raging, stoked,
A fragile warmth burns now from shades of the old. ~Seun
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I placed the zillion on the bar
The few times, I lost it to tension
Some win, some lose
Some suicide, at the thought of bad goods

Let’s drink from the glass of risk
Let’s toast to great men
We shan’t bury our head in mud
For we heard boss is a fraud. – Rachel Charles
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A penny infused
With hopes of getting a refuel
Somehow works out
When effort was enough to work.

Memories regrets
If It lasted a little longer
Dividend will get return
Let’s cash a book of our losses. Hypermind