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Kyle T Oct 2020
Will there be a time when
All this technology ends

When the screens go down
We all mute the sound

Will we return to a time
Not forged in financial design

When the ROI and the GDP
Big money banks we no longer see

Or the interest rates and credit lines
Hidden fees and holdback fines

And tell them, when I turn my shoulders to the night,
I sent you to discuss the market's yield's human right
It was better when it was better.
Jordan Hudson Feb 2019
Born for this life
Raised for this style
Others don't get it
Running by miles
Not about speed
Style by intent
Rice by you, nice by me
I'm not tryin' to be
Quick like you
I made it what I like
So negative
Don't you know
What style is
It's all about one's thoughts
What I bought
What I see as great
What you see as fake
It's an art form
As one can say
It would improve
Only if I could choose
The one I use
I am stuck with this
All the limits
Make me sick
So limited
So limited
I am stuck with this
Rice has me glued
Limited from you
I am stuck with it
My rice car is all I can afford right now
Nicole Rountree Aug 2018
It started off as a simple plan to rob a man to pay the Man
I thought it would only be once, but it turned into something that I could not stand.

I felt guilty because I knew it was wrong, but Paul kept harassing me to pay it all. Peter, not expecting to be taken again, but it happened again and again and again.

I knew it was wrong to Rob Peter to Pay Paul!

Was I a crook? Was I a thief?  All I knew was that I needed relief.
So, no matter what it would take, I would continue to Rob Peter to make all ends meet.

Paul, in turn, wasn’t a friendly man.  All he did was hold out his hand.  Give me! Pay me! It’s due today.  You see, Paul had consequences if you paid him late.

Stuck between a rock and a real hard place, I knew I had to do something before it was too late.

I put a gun to Peter’s head and took his money and turned and said, “I did it Paul! Now, here you go.  The money for the car note, groceries, lights, a new coat.”

He looked at me with no remorse in his eyes.  A look that I really despised. He said, “Great.  You did it.  Now, do it again.  Unless you do something different, you will be doing this again, again, and again—my friend.”
Infinity Jul 2018
Honey you must be
High risk, high return ;)
I've lent you my love
But you'll most likely be a bad debt
I'll have to write off
You've got a high risk of default

You're not a public offer
Won't give me the disclosures I need
Darling you're private debt
And the riskiest type

Babe, you're the riskiest investment
A structured product
Only the most accredited investor

Can afford your risk
Im only a retail consumer
Barely making ends meet

But you're a bad boy
Risky
And I'm nothing, if not risk-seeking
I thought I'd write a silly poem, it's not fully edited and there's a lot of finance terminology here so I hope it's understandable. This was inspired by cheesy/lame accounting pick up lines.
Maria Etre May 2018
In the currency of emotions
heart break and
heart gain
always
lead
to
c
h
a
n
g
e
fm May 2017
they tell you not to revolve your life around money

yet

it costs at least $2000 a day for life support
way to go america
A tough
guy still
his place
relives Spanish
Inquisition and
gossamer upwind
only prorogue
yesterday with
those Oxfords
on shoes,
shirt and
Otis for
trusty returns
easily now
a ghost
ware of
his Aberdeen.
James Otis an Amercan Statesmen known for revenue impose in Massachusetes.
Motto,
  
            "Where consumers go to borrow in aid of a common good."

...because all interest is given to social causes directed to by the publicly-elected board of directors. A true good for all mankind whom wish to participate.

A real bank.

A real social institution.

That doesn't,


EXIST
Sea of money, green wave it crashes...
...take it peon, take all your lashes!
Homeowners, taxpayers, nation, investor,
my hands on it all, everything; for I am molester!

Ideology, philosophy and ego,
entering your hearts, your minds; the Sea Goat!
All of it for my class, the world is our pile...
...now I choke off the spigot and wither you Gen-tile!

Money subjugation, adorn it with laurels...

Banker am I!

The man of no morals!
Brent Kincaid Mar 2016
Mountebanks and madmen
And marvelous maidens
Populate and pollute politics
Which joss sticks cannot chase
Or alleviate the electorate
In its counter clockwise swirl
Down its own bathroom drain.
Only morals don’t ameliorate
It only exacerbates, enervates
Rather than eliminates the pain.

The pain is felt by franklins,
Never the nobles or magnates;
They go on and make play dates
With other multi-billionaires
In debonair pied-a-terre lofts
And scoff at the peasantry
While exchanging pleasantries
Over gold-laced desserts
Thinking nobody gets hurt
If they pilfer and pillage
Far off village and town
Tearing down and razing,
With life grazing scorched earth.

To the rich, nobody has worth;
Voices that implore are muted
And garbage-chuted in the press.
Nothing to confess, the smile;
A mile of porcelainized teeth
Made more intense by pretense
That importance is impotence
In the face of extreme wealth
When stealth cease efficacy
And delicacy isn’t required.
The moral judge is fired.
A new wife is squired
In hopes a son is sired
To take over the empire.
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