I am an old homeless man,
looking at a beautiful mound of gold,
   I'm to slow to run at it,
so the richer people get there first,
and grab random handfuls of it freely,
taking it back to by luxury items,
with not a care for keeping themselves alive,
   by the time I get there,
there is but a smaller mound,
   I would have loved and appreciated that mound,
no matter what the size,
I would have fed and sheltered with it,
and respected it for what it gave me,
as long as it shined with the same beauty at me,
   do you blame me for bending down,
on my small crippled hands and knees,
to grab every last penny?