Poetry

Money

Money is a giant Imp
Treat it not a source imp
It knows tricks many
At times makes you honey

Like murky sky of grief
It hovers on you believe
But your wills strong
Can’t make you wrong

Less you honour it
Less you think of it
Less you worry for it
Less you love it

You’d find yourself free
Free from its cunning glee
Money isn’t every thing
Health you care and think

Money can be earned
But not health ever earned
So be wise care yourself
Money you care less

@Raji❤