Money

A weapon for the wealthy kind,
To rule the world by pocket might,
A miserly soul’s day-long dream,
To avoid squatting the road at night;
It’s the one thing that divides,
Men of equal humanly birth,
Spoiling one in richesse,
The other, in mortal dearth.
It’s the one big enemy of man,
And the one big friend of same,
It spurs forth the agile,
And down treads the lame.