Storm clouds gather around this sky scraper
why must every day feel like a battle
all we’re asking – is look at the papers
there is more to it than just tattle.
Have you dreamt of sailing around the world?
Or buying a cottage out on the bay?
Or creating as your golden years twirled?
Living out your life – free- day to day?
Monkey Man would have you chained to your desk
trapped and imprisoned in the daily grind
ol’ weary travellers will have no rest
till they reach fifty years – having served time.
Why give all your money to the taxman?
Wealthy – he’s like the mouse that got the cheese.
Why wait till later? Why not make a plan?
Earn some money now not lose it on fees.
Monkey man is not going to help you
he’ll have you work till your six feet under
So pull it together, let it accrue
it is your future; not that Mans plunder.
Prompt: Pooky’s Poetry Prompt 19 – Rhyme and Reason