Your eyes hunger for money,
Hoping some would magically appear.
Your words flow like honey,
Trickling sweetly down my ear.
Your tongue is wicked and funny,
But busy lapping up its own spiel.
Your lips are full of promises,
None of which are remotely real.
Your hands and fingers are insatiable,
Whenever something valuable is near.
Your body is your temple,
The only thing you worship and revere.
I would call you a gold digger,
But you’re still choosing your career.
(C) 2013 Copyright Elena Plotkin
i love your chosen word, simple but meaningful the imagery is perfect and of course this is a great poem
A succinct description of a gold digger and wow! What an attractive title this witty poem is crowned with!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
elena, somehow [before i read your invitation to read t] i thought i had already read this one. i guess not, since i left no comment. a nicely flowing and rhyming piece. thanks. but it seems that he may also worship and revere money. maybe not the same as his body. i wonder what profession he will settle on. hmmm? there are a lot of lines i enjoyed but i guess i liked these the best: Your words flow like honey, Trickling sweetly down my ear. to MyPoemList it goes. thanks for sharing. :) bri