Mwange

Mwange sits, a king in his own mind,

A fat wallet whispers, respect you'll find.

His voice booms out, pronouncements bold,

But listen they wouldn't, if pockets grew cold.

"Money talks," he declares with a smirk,

"The world turns its ear when your pockets don't shirk."

He clinks his coins, a symphony grand,

But the clinking of truth escapes his command.

For genuine worth, by riches unbought,

Is a treasure in deeds, a lesson well taught.

Kindness and wisdom, a spirit alight,

These garner respect, a far truer might.

So Mwange may boast, with his fortune so near,

But genuine connection, he'll hold ever dear.

For wealth whispers empty, a hollow refrain,

True value resides, in the heart, not the gain.