this is my verse for this weeks rstl bout....topice was 'money'

born into poverty, his violet violin was never heard
not a dollar to his name, but wealth took form from his words
from rags to riches, well this kid was blessed the best of both worlds
who would have known the darkest cole would have a center of pearl
in a comunity where humans thieve for equal oppertunities
penny searchin through his pockets, "man i'm tired of this gloomy street
I've walked this path with millions yet i stand here alone
condoned the notion that no helping hands are loaned where i roam"
though life was harder for a man with no possesions to barter
martyrdom was not an option, he knew inside he was smarter
first time writting a rhyme he met the love of his life
"you've released the best of me, with you, i can forgett all the strife"
a blank page holds no prejudice, no judgement of self
he found the ball-point to a pen released his fountain of wealth
through his years of life his gears gained twice the normal rate of turning
still not a dollar to his name, he led the priceless life of learning
the richest men will die with millions and no sence of reality
become engulfed in all the figures in their anual salary
"fuck the system and its profits, uncle sam's hand cant slap me
the term 'dead broke' will soon be true, physicaly poor and still happy
on my epitaph please chissel out these last words i speak
here lies a poor man who walked through life with the wealthiest feet"