Poor Man’s Folly

By Palmetto Ambush

The poor man follys every day,

Chasing glimmers that slip away.

This shiny thing, this “new way,”

Makes the poor man poorer day by day.

From crypto coins to market dreams,

He rides the tides of fleeting schemes.

A ticker rises—he kneels to pray,

Then curses dawn when gains decay.

The folly shifts from gold to code,

From Wall Street towers to blockchain roads.

He seeks the key, the secret spark,

But trades his peace for fleeting marks.

And still he scrolls, and still he yearns,

While wiser souls let patience burn.

For wealth, true wealth, was never bought—

It grows in soil the rich forgot.

So tell me, friend, before you leap,

What treasure do you hope to keep?

For every king once chased the same—

The poor man’s folly by another name.