MY SON

My son, an old tongue loves to wag

I thus will telleth thee what you wish to know

Thou blindeth thyself to think that the wisdom of days profits not

My son, the sun that shines today shone when thy father was born

And the Euphrates was their still for a tree that stood the ground when thy father saw the earth at first

Thou shall begin to earn very soon

Thou shall pay the shoemaker for shoe and buy bread to eat

And for the gold thou earneth every mouth shall be for thy very self

The thin air shall swallow thy fat purse when thou shall let go what i sayeth to you today

Keep one-tenth of all you earn every mouth for days ahead

Budget thy expenditure that thou mayest have coins to pay for thy necessities

Thou shall invest for the safety of thy purse here in babylon,

Thou shall not consult the shoemaker about the stars look for an astronaut instead for the game of investment ahead

Thou shall lendeth not the little you have my son even to the dearest of friends,

That’s giving thy destiny, don’t for the sake of clout let the cloud of an empty purse engulf you

My son there is an opportunity to make profits upon efforts and transactions

But gambling thou art my son, i telleth thee, is so arranged to favor the game keeper

My son when thou lendeth thy gold, securities will have you secure

For life is a game of cards when thou let go thy diamonds, your heart shall bleed my son

My son let thy gold multiply, guard them from loss

My son blessings cometh to a man who owneth his own home, build yourself a house

Find yourself amongst men like Arkard of Babylon

Before my tongue chokes for the length of my words,

Time flies son

#poetictuesdays