A Wasted Chance

A coin at rest, a stagnant sea,

No ripples formed, no industry.

It sleeps, inert, devoid of life,

A barren field, devoid of strife.

Your wealth, a seed, should sprout and grow,

In fertile grounds where fortunes flow.

Not buried deep, a hidden hoard,

But out to work, a welcomed lord. 

For idle funds, a wasted chance,

To reap rewards, a sweet expanse.

Let money toil, let profits rise,

A fruitful harvest for your eyes.