Break the hopes and dreams of these men.
Ruined are the lives of poor folks-
Opened to more lies and deceits.
Killed are the innocent young lives-
Ended in a den of demons.
Nothing is seen or heard of them.
Hear the small voice within you hearts.
Every path leads me back to you.
Arrows point down when you’re around.
Run away from heavy lending!
Turn away from high interest rates!
End the funny money, honey.
Don’t be broken hearted, my dear.
Another attempt at acrostic poetry in eight syllables with no end rhymes.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.