Poetry:  Investment

Investment

It’s the way of investing, has been, and shall be,

To get something for nothing, costing no fee,

Sometimes, it works, oh such a joy,

Sometimes, it fails, part of fate’s evil ploy,

To put something in, is a venture in sin,

An attempt to gain, despite woes of men,

In that, for one to gain, another must loose,

What terrible burden, to the one who must choose,

Should this man be blessed, while his neighbor is cursed,

Should the man wanting plenty, now have his dreams burst,

And what of the one, the young, the innocent,

He puts his allowance in, or at least a percent,

Will he stand to gain, to prosper, to win,

How much he gets out, must exceed what goes in,

And now, for a while, his profits shall climb,

If only, he knew, it was for such a short time,

Now he has lost, oh, so much more than he had,

Claiming only his memories, and the clothing in which he is clad,

If he was warned, could he have prevented such strife,

Or was the chance at a dream, worth the risk of his life,

He now looks for an opening, a way he could still win,

Despite such a lesson, his heart now pursues the same sin,

Yet, though he seems foolish, consumed with a greed,

It may be that, for him, his loss created, a need,

He will fulfill it, he knows that already,

Will he use caution, and proceed slow and steady,

Or will he try to dive in once more,

In water, so frightfully close to the shore,

Did he learn from the past, his failure, his loss,

That to set a high hope, assigns the venture great cost,

These questions, unanswered, may remain as they are,

For the investors behave, like moths in a jar,

They see the bright light, rich, great, and warm

It brings them by the many, a gigantic swarm,

They head straight towards it, nothing seems to bar their pass,

When, lo and behold, they encounter their fate, in the form the jar’s glass,

Oh, there will be, of the pack, a fortunate few,

That notice, one single crack, and way to slip though,

But what of the innocent, already mentioned, who has already lost,

Will he be stranded forever, till his prison jar is tossed,

Or will one premonition, or vision appear,

A friendly voice, speaking softly, into his ear,

Encourage him on, to find a way out of that place,

Or will he soon be silenced by life’s ongoing pace,

There will be a conclusion, a fate for the lost,

But, if it is joyful, depends not at all on it’s cost,

For the way to one’s goal, never can be bought,

That is something, few, if any are taught,

Only through faith, and sometimes through wisdom,