Poem -

Breathing Hard

Coin’s the name, don’t call me Al.
Business only, I am not your pal.
Friends are few, family gone
Profiteering, I am the one

Avarice is good, money is king.   
Lots of cash, plenty of bling.    
Dollars earned, dollars spent.    
Making money my only intent.   

My whole life was based on greed.   
Single minded, I had to succeed.                  
No dead end job, no nine to five.   
Internet trading, I came alive.    

Playing the markets I did for leisure.    
Buying and selling my one true pleasure.  
Following the trends twenty four seven.  
Made my first million, I was in heaven.  
 
Day by day I ignored my health,  
All for the sake of profit and wealth.   
Breathing hard, pains in chest .   
Losing deals, I was stressed.      
 
Small of stature and overweight.   
Poor condition, what a state.   
Breathing hard, out of puff.     
Not myself, forgetting stuff.
    
Misreading markets, on the slide.   
Heart attack, I almost died.    
Breathing hard, life on hold    
Major surgery, so I was told.

Doctors and nurses did their best
Hospital bed, plenty of rest
Breathing hard, recovery slow
Dealing finished, that much I know     
Fully restored, I have a new life.   
Semi-retired, with a young wife.   
Breathing hard, kinky play.    
She likes it a lot, what can I say.

Money I earned now works for me,
Helping others with my charity.
Breathing hard, marathon run
Lot less money, much more fun. 

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