Woe to the Street
By Eve W.
Woe to the Street
For tide receding
and value submerged
The voice of the songbird is
silent
For there are no trees on Wall Street
Many have come and gone
Yet none are found
On duty’s inspection
Woe to the Street
For the ear that listens
but hears not
A nod
A smile, then
A corroded and tarnished truth
The faint hiss of the sycophant
Echoes
As he slithers away
Woe to the Street
For tide receding
and value submerged
Author’s Note: Eve is a published poet and index fund investor.