I wrote this poem in 2002, while living in Amsterdam.

Cash

Love makes the world go round
Money makes the world go round
Love of money makes the world confound
Our classless, 3-Class society needs some common ground

The comedy is how everyone tries to make it
The tragedy is that some just try to fake it
He who has it, compounds and rakes it
He who doesn’t, pretends he does & fakes it

The more you make the more Uncle Sam takes
The less you make, the less he compensates
Either way, you get no breaks
Creative accounting, not honesty, just ups the stakes

Some have it, and realize they’re nothing
Others don’t, and pretend they’re everything
The key is to relax, and accept what you have
Smile, pay your tax, and you won’t go mad