High in supremacy, She only is the Creator
Heaven and earth, She is an Author
Hiding in her delight; man is but an editor
His mind on lush kites, for money She never made.
Hilariously networked power across big bucks
Horn on dogs, hardship diplomats
He is in charge of dispense but
Hit by inflation and deflation confusion.
Income has a grudge at most times…
In the eyes you see their home and abroad
Inside, deep in the mind; hope is by the road
In-spite of that; Man favors the big buck slimes.
Along the rich carpets, poverty pulls the poor
Away from reach as riffraff in the lore
A billion printed daily is a suffering toy, for
Along my streets, are the rich and the poor.