The rat race
On the land of microchips
The man lands in a hole
One so big he finds suitable for home
A home so large he intends to grow
To grow so big that
He would fill the hole
With his money, family and friends
Acquisitions become his wealth
His health with his wealth
Are of the best of the best
Though his heart grows colder
As if a boulder he sits on his chair
Unmoving and unsatisfied
"I have money, I have it all
How does it become
That I want more?"
Addicted to the race
Falling into place
Because of the pace
That he cannot face
He is not lost
He is not yet dead
He is just stuck
Not in the mud
But in his mind
Of money and wealth
But with no heart
He can feel no more
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