That are like a loaded gun,
Who make you nervous every moment you're with them,
Even if they never let off one.
And just like anyone, they are not superior,
Except to the extent that,
You allow them to be, which is your choice,
Unless they pay your rent.
Because the way this world is constructed,
Money adds something to a soul,
In the eyes of other people,
Because we're all looking for what makes people go.
And it's alright,
Some people hide it well,
And get satisfaction from seeming inferior,
While having all the wealth.
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