Traders Poem by Gregory Huyette

Trundling taut, twinged and tattered,
Smudged, sanguine, sad and spattered,
Still hope of millions mattered
More than bloody body battered;
In spite of spirits sorely scattered…
Leaving net worth notions shattered.

Instant wealth appeared on paper,
But like cruel water vapor
Disappeared leaving a hell
Of felled and falling screaming “sell”.

Sadly some short sighted seekers
Again augmented awful leekers,
Buying back their badly botched;
Lauding losers when one notched
Levels below lingering faders…
Think not, wait not, tainted traders!