Behold, A Golden Ring Poem by Alfred Barna

Oh, behold a golden ring
Do you admire such a thing?
Those who sweat out to mine the ore
Remain so gritty, meek, and poor
Those who smelted the precious metal
Get burned from the hot and flaming kettle
Those who fashioned the circle fine
Bewilder those who wait in the line
Those who toiled the least in finance
Get to jig with it as they dance
Taking the gift home to the royal queen
Festooned with all the trinkets you have ever seen
Hoping to buy the affection of a royal hive
Where the greedier will learn to survive.
Was not the gold more beautiful in the hills?
Where clean streams ran serene before the mills
When man walked above the ground in sunlight valleys
When men lived in cottages rather than darkened alleys
Now we have monuments to chase the gold
Where we chained slaves must do as they are told
Trading our lives for a spec or two
Learning to screw onto others before they onto you
We who look upon jungles as uncivilized
When jungles look upon us, and cannot believe their eyes
For everything is stamped and ready for sale
Even the very man who tells this tale