7 Super-(Gold)-Ego

One must eat to fuel the body,

Where all must love to feed the soul.

But how does it feel when nothing can stay real,

For all that you touch dies,

When it layers’ immediately in gold?

Oh how cursed and wretched,

Starvation must feel,

When you must always keep hand to self,

For you are death’s deal.

Taunting in each walk as you see life spread about,

For in all around you theres value,

Albeit your own personal clout.

For its not personal the identity you’ve faught,

It’s your purpose to furnish and file greed

With all gold that you turn out.

Unfortunate for the breathes’ robbed,

Through your rich enlightenment….

It’s sad that youre stolen from with each word another gifts’.

For it peels and it stabs at what’s left in your cave,

A bear in a mountain you shall never be heartfelt and laid.

For if you lay you attempt love,

And for it will be eversome lost…

Because unlike other metals,

Gold will preserve and never rot.

Be cautious ive told you,

From your unearthly birth and life to go;

That happiness and joy are far from the purpose,

You’re to sew.

Keep to your eye and your ear,

That your touch never comes due,

Because although gold rich,

It will only and always robbeth you.