By Vladimir Marku

Golden bar is blood, frozen

Toil, starvation, suffering and misery

Gold melts, into paper

Dollars, Euros, Pounds and Yen

Colourful hands, feverishly caressing

The beautiful perfume of green, yellow and red papers

Come from the blood and sweat of the miserables

Weird, and mysterious how folks get fearfully intoxicated

Lose control and their spines liquidify into slugs

Souls rotten, hearts harden into stones

In contact with the papers, from melted gold bars

Precipitation of sweat and blood of the miserable. 

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