At the dawn of exchange,
transactions waxed in diverse range:
from barter to fiat
and fiat to crypto.
The template for money evolved
as all her utilities revolved.

Of financiogamous bliss,
money got a liberal kiss.
Of econometric beauty,
she is the prize for duty.
And men are drawn to her
whether they love or hate her.

And she got a romantic language,
that flip the mind in pages.
And the face of a crushing rage,
she imprisoned in a cage.
And for those who live to manage,
she blesses daily with a wage.

Who can come to her castle of plenty
and let go her mints in twenty?
Who can exhaust her well
and make her live in hell?
She is irresistible,
shinning forth in her vestibule.

She is married to all men
and faithful to ten.
And controlling all souls,
she is an empress without foes.
No matter the course,
all men live by her purse.

Get a wife like money
and get a life full of honey.
“For better for worse,”
would be easy to endorse
and there won’t be divorce
whether by threat or force.

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