The Investor (Poetry)
26th January 2011
Jack walked to work five summers long
and piggy-banked the cash
he scrimped and saved from seventeen
adding to his stash.
He rationed every pleasure, too —
surviving on his dreams —
his sights fixed rigidly within
strict monetary schemes...
He bought a house high on a hill —
a basic starter home
built on a postage stamp of land —
a castle of his own.
Investing every cent he had
he signed the dotted line —
mortgaged to the very hilt
he brewed his homemade wine.
The market slumped and prices dropped —
he owed more than its worth —
they repossessed — his empire fell —
wiped swiftly from the earth.
‘You can’t beat bricks and mortar, son.’
that’s what Jack’s dad had said
but Jack now dreams he’d squandered all
and had a life instead.
and piggy-banked the cash
he scrimped and saved from seventeen
adding to his stash.
He rationed every pleasure, too —
surviving on his dreams —
his sights fixed rigidly within
strict monetary schemes...
He bought a house high on a hill —
a basic starter home
built on a postage stamp of land —
a castle of his own.
Investing every cent he had
he signed the dotted line —
mortgaged to the very hilt
he brewed his homemade wine.
The market slumped and prices dropped —
he owed more than its worth —
they repossessed — his empire fell —
wiped swiftly from the earth.
‘You can’t beat bricks and mortar, son.’
that’s what Jack’s dad had said
but Jack now dreams he’d squandered all
and had a life instead.