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Poetry

Chaotic

Chaotic

for forty-eight hours, over five continents

the papers took flight across trading floors

stockbrokers cried and markets Dived

as crestfallen bankers canived

to excuse themselves

from their own mess

 

Politico’s too – stuck together like glue

“not just my fault – its yours too!”

figures tumbled, continuing drop

till the moment – the marker stopped

chaos created by an aspect of greed

you have to ask – was there a need?