Bloody Banker

A Poem by euqitna

Banker is that o5erson who only invests in his own soul satisfaction. How much money he earns he spends it on himself. He buys lixuries to prove the world he is a rich man. He wont giva a cent away.

How can you go crazy for those golden rings
and that race hasn't ate anything from mornings
No it ain't the same things we crave
Maybe you're building a bank under your grave.

But I wont deposit my money in your bank
You're the one smiling when we sank
You are free to call me a crazy poet
I do not prefer luxuries of other's sweat

What is wrong with the society the way we live
We have housefull of goods but we rarely give
We compare who has more and get disappoint
The round earth will one day prove this point.

We value them by how they look and they spend
you ever made someone laugh with pure intend?
The so called rich today could go sick tomorrow
What is expensive may become cheap tomorrow

You have an iphone might not work tomorrow
The 5g bar on your phone could rip off tomorrow
You have luxuries you might sorrow tomorrow
You are living you might die tomorrow

So you bloody banker of the graveyard come out
Look up to each and everyone until you freak out
Let me give you a piece of an advice too
dont just buy things give them some rice too

Lets not live life for instagram stories and highs
We already know we should cry saying goodbyes
The poor us and the real hardworking class guys
We'd bless you if you make us equal in your eyes.