PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The money signs in your eyes, and the dollar bills on your family tree. A golden lamborghini or a priceless faberge egg centered in your area of living, placed desperately next to a ten thousand dollar television, and a cherished piece of art by Monet.

Hundred dollar bills for cheap thrills. Spending on what's trending.

Maybe for a little stimulation of the soul toss a five into the worn in fabric bowl that once the day's profit is made becomes the hat of a man with no home. The generosity of the day. Now off to the daily audit. Seeming unaware of the client of three years who's hat now comforts the tax mans kind but ignorant gesture.

Old Abe Lincoln frowns in that woolen hat.

Five dollars for lunch maybe. A .5 most likely. While the seemingly generous five dollar man, enjoys caviar served of a china plate with a medium rare porter house steak in the center.

Twenty dollar tip? Nah, to cheap. A fifty should cut it right?

President Grant scoffs. What happened? Imagines the dead man on the cash. Not moving as a picture must be still. He knows this, so much as the Mona Lisa knows she can never frown.

Now, after an expensive lunch in a highrise diner that overlooked the broken world, the man heads back to his ride. A twenty will surely cover the valet.

President Jackson doesn't bother to cough up a mutter.

Now back to his house of many acres. Of course, not noticing the product of his earlier act of kindness no longer held out his hat. Was probably in an alley, maybe a box wearing the cap in which Abe Lincoln frowned.

The man of wealth sleeps comfortably in his egyptian cotton sheets. Abe Lincoln safe in a poor pocket, wipes away a tear, and unseen takes his hat off to salute the not so well off, the walked over, the robbed. The men women and children of empty pockets. Unseen, the man on the bill whispers, "good luck my friend".