By Blessing Chinenye David


A mere paper it is
With heads of deceased
Number and letters
But commands respect.

It is called money
Oh! how mysterious it is!
It builds a nation
It destroys a nation.

Money, they say
Is the root of all evil
And root of everything good
Money scatters home
Money builds home.

In quest for it
Friends kill friends
Children, their parents
And vise versa.

For money
The sane screw the insane
Many find comfort in cemetery
As harming overtakes harmony.

Money humbles the elder
To respect the younger
Feeds men with lies
And makes trust a mirage.

Money makes and mars
Money saves and kills
Money attracts
Money scatters

Money is good
Money is bad
Money starts and stops nonsense
Money controls the world.