mores et pauperem

daemones pauperum

the angels
pure
serene
and doing good
to those who who can give back nothing

the demons
clouded
torturing
and devouring
those too weak to resist

so both blessed and cursed
are the poor
the meek
the powerless

as they
and only they

can truly discern
the demons
from
the angels

from bitter
experience

Money, Money Everywhere

Waiting Still

Money, money everywhere
And not a cent to spend;
So they wait, to their credit
For their penury to end

They drive by stately mansions
That they can’t afford to build;
Then go home to a cage they find
They can’t afford to gild

The love of money is the root
Of evil, it is said;
Yet they would love to have some
Just to buy a decent bed

Money, money everywhere
There’re funds to fit the bill;
But none has ever come their way
Nor likely, ever will