|
|
|
Money makes the world turn around....Byron's sonnet They say money makes the world turn around, yet today it comes to a grinding halt as fortunes are either kept in a vault or evaporate till none can be found. With wages and pensions on the rebound we'll have to work till we're sixty-seven; State's pension, once called manna from heaven, is no longer growing, but ran aground. Money was borrowed too much and too fast; the sky was the limit, four years ago; we should have known better: it could not last. Banks had huge debts, stopped lending, brought woe; by stockholders gambling, the dice were cast. We're the spectators who'll pay for their show. |
 If you have any suggestions or questions regarding these poems please email me |
