In pockets deep, the coins do sing,
A melody of want and need,
Their shiny faces promise dreams,
Yet often leave the heart to bleed.

The paper notes, in hands they cling,
A silent power, vast and grand,
They build the towers, fuel the kings,
Yet slip like grains of desert sand.

In chase of gold, the days grow long,
With every gain, a shadow cast,
The rhythm of the money’s song,
Can lead us from the truths we grasp.

So pause and ponder wealth’s true worth,
Beyond the glitter, past the chase,
For life’s true riches lie in mirth,
In love’s embrace, in time’s sweet grace.