Moolah Poem by John F. McCullagh

Some earn it, some steal it,
some lust for it like muff.
Others work hard for hours
earning barely enough.

The lucky, with Trust funds,
have got it to spare.
Others anxiously hope
Grandma’s will named them heir.

Some guys on the Street
Take risks with brass balls.
Then live like royal dukes
in baronial halls.

In the evenings some Ladies
Will stroll on the street
Accepting donations
for sausage relief.

The government types
Have got it the best
They skim off the top
And distribute the rest.

These green little rectangles
With the Presidents’ faces-
They help us keep score
And keep us all in our places.