Hostages Of Money. Poem by Marcondes Pereira
Hostages Of Money.
Stress is killing us, but we live to worship your beauty.
Our job is destroying us, but we ignore a better possibility.
We have got you, but we're never fulfill our vain pride.
We have got you, but we feel empitness inside.
We always will be your hostages.
You always will be our god and we always will be blank pages.
Money is like a distant spark of light
That we persecute through the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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7/22/2025 5:18:32 AM # 1.0.0
