Market Poetry

By Anonymous

My aim set forth is fortune made
Strength I gather to face the fear
In sea of risk I do now wade
Bull intending, I accept the bear

By J. Sotabinda

I’m mere wood transformed to paper
And adorned and bestowed numbers,
But I’m most powerful;
No one can live without me:
I make those who have me
Reach their every end;
Those who have me know no hunger,
Not much pangs nor tightropes,
And can crack all their nuts.
I’m so powerful in such a way that
Those who dearly love me
Even serve and respect me,
Worship and adore me
As their own god.
But I’m not a fair and just deity:
I make them my slaves;
My power has a fiendish price to pay:
I give them all they want
And make sure of their every whim,
But I make them toil and wear
Their souls with unrest.
And even when they have me well,
I still make them leave me only when death,
Who’s the only one stauncher than me
Comes and carries them to the netherworld.

Author’s Note: Hope this poem reaches the heart of every man.

By Ted D.

I’m so tired of watching stocks move all around all day long with no end and I’m just not interested in playing this game anymore because there’s gotta be a better way to make money than watching tickers dance on a screen somebody else can do this ‘cause I don’t like investing in the stock market anymore…phew!

Ted works in the logistics department of a Fortune 500 company.

Timothy & Alisha Albear

My money, won through sweat
Sits nervously
While the wind blows

And off in the distance
A thump
Echoes through the streets

Ruffling in the wind
Painfully on edge
The chill of the wind
Wraps itself around and around

In the end
I know not where my riches lay