Treat money as slave that serves: A poem

 Treat money as slave that serves: A poem

A golden coin, a shining, tempting gleam,

A gentle servant, fueling life's soft dream,

But let it rule, and then a cruel decree,

Its cost is high, for dignity and glee

But oh, beware when it begins to lead,

And we become enslaved to its command.

It sows a dark and avaricious seed,

And steals the joy from life's abundant hand.

So let us use it wisely, day by day,

Lest gold enslave us, stealing hearts away.

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