Poem – Money

Money,

It slips through my fingers,

Like slithers of bottle-green seaweed submitting to gravity.

I chase it every day,

But yet I still feel drowned at its mercy.

I am submerged.

Will anyone take mercy?

Celebrities live a life of luxury,

Yet still, some show signs of misery.

If more money is all of our end goals,

Then how can we avoid this unpleasant possibility?

It’s a lie to say that money isn’t necessary,

It’s a lie to say we don’t want it.

Are we all doomed to live this rat race intensively?

Or is a mouse trap the only way round it?