Hands of Midas

A penny could be silent-deadly

For your hands are slaves of gold

Glued to a rusty pickaxe and brought lantern fiddly

Instead of gulping waters of rivers told

It shines too bright

That blinded eyes that fade

Which gives no fright

But gives a deadly nightshade

A kangaroo rat could survive a lifetime

Without the need of water

And what to say, humans cant of short time

Without filthy idols in minds that hover

The poem talks about the disease of being rich that has influence most of the people
today.