A poem about the capitalist crisis. Joshua is 12 and lives in Cambridge
As I walked out one Autumn day,
I saw a banker and did say;
“How fare you my noble man
Is it going all to plan?
For I doth spy yonder youths robbing your armoured van!”
"Oh Calamity, calu-calay I must pelt those pesky kids away!
For they will surely see!"
Quoth he, "All that glitters is not gold,
And all that armoured van doth hold is lost.
"Your hopes and dreams I built on sand,
But I have nothing in my hand;
My suit is cold.
"Though I grow old and rich I stay,
In gold, you my debt must pay for greed.
"But when you age, and death comes near,
I shall forget my Friend, I fear,
The debt you paid oh long ago,
And to the poor house you shall go for me!"