Empty hearts and open hands,
Truly a scourge among man,
Greed, the grime of grandiose giants,
Leaving the poor upon them reliant.
Hopeful heros and headstrong heathens
Living life in search of reason.
One rigged game and a dozen rule books,
Yet no clear view of how victory looks.
Is it in the bond of hearts,
Or maybe owning fancy cars?
Perhaps it’s in stability’s peace?
It could be all or none of these.
I’d venture to say it is, at the least,
Relative to what you need.
Have money find meaning,
Have poverty then sufficiency.