Wealth speaks a different language than ours,
Talking in riddles, concealing in rhyme;
Whispered inside ever shinier cars,
Savored for every nuance sublime.
Wealth uses so many interesting words,
Tucking away all its lucre and gain,
Leveraging everything you've ever heard
Dealing with influence, privilege or fame.
Rolling from tongues that feel cooler than ice,
Syllables gilt in the richest of sounds:
Murmured confessions don't hang themselves twice;
There's no wailing of bugles, no baying of hounds.
Strive as we might for its generative powers,
Wealth speaks a different language than ours.
(c) 2012 Frederick C. Ingram