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The Stock Market

Mark A. England 1960 (Phoenix)

The opening Bell, in New York State,
Is open for business Determining our Fate;
With Millions of dollars, Trading hands,
The Chatter of buying, and selling stands;
Be careful of riches, So easily made,
The Markets are Tricky, in dealing with Trade;
For soon the closing Bell will sound,
Leaving so many, without a Crown;
History has shown, We can’t always win,
You may for a while, but look at the Trend;
The markets are straining, Against the tide,
Of corruption and greed, And to much Pride;
Perhaps we can learn, from the wise old man,
A hard days work, Is better than chance;
True Labor Performed, has earned great Merit,
With Paycheck in hand, Any bank will Credit;
The Weather in Markets, Seem Cloudy and Grey,
So Save your Money, For rainy Days;

By: Mark A. England

About this poem

Troubling Markets and the losses of family monies and the destruction of our values of waisted gambling

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Submitted by TheFountainofOurMinds on April 28, 2022

Modified by TheFountainofOurMinds

47 sec read

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"The Stock Market" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 28 Jun 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/125725/the-stock-market>.

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