Money Poem by momodou jarju

The mere love paper
Heart breaker
Who raises the promises of partners
To build them a trait of scornful manners
The hater who cuts out the ribs of honesty
And plugs in feather of improbity
To the ties of strong generosity
To become that of animosity
The slain that has the nerves to stab
Ultra intimate folk or friend
With the instinct to kill or grab
Materialistic tempt, what of tight end?
The mislead who leads senses to enunciate lies
Over the right and say
Without a wink, throw the spit to the eyes
Thus to be free away
The insolent who rubs paupers' faces
And disdain their strive paces
Cool of thee, I obey thy orders
And web in the bondage of murders
The strumpet who dupes my dear damsel
By delude to purchase a phone cell
In opening the door for S-Daddies to enter
To release irremediable flu to their center