They aren’t driven to the prison,
But to the clipped and zipped server rooms,
Millions of investment to rip and reap,
Beware of ultra slim and tempting mafia,
Their hearts are our goal,
Where we can play the wheels,
a few words laced with sweet,
just to squeeze their greed,
They can voluntarily get into our trap,
Transferring their hard stored sweat,
Clicking the buttons to beg and deposit,
We are the modern mafia, behind the laptop,
The rejuvenating lost youth in thirty days,
The winning of lotteries and the monies,
The inheritance from the non existing princes,
The greed in human never fails to grab the first choice,
We are the mafia, not with the guns and weapons,
But with the wealth to hire the best brains,
We can create games, fun and celluloid human,
Thanks to the technological development…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem