Wealth Illusion

A ring of ire, a plate of golden hue,

Black streams of pain and worry just for you.

A flame so bright it blinds the mind from truth

Beneath the mask, you are decaying youth.

Contribution of the broken don't count,

Do poor only succeeded with screams and shouts?

Care not to think about the ones who hearts,

Die strong, and do not have to be so smart.

Effort was place each day of their whole life,

From birth to death, throughout all pain and strife.

Equipped with faith holding an iron beam,

Failure will not break their earnest dream.

Noone,  not one will fade from Heaven’s light

They will not go "softly into the night".

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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