He was always warned

That riches destroy

But how can such greatness

Turn out so sour?

It brought prizes and happiness

All the benevolence in the world

And he wanted that

He watched to capture

All of Midas’ loot

All of its giving

So he flew so close

But it spoiled

Down down

Down down

Where he could no longer

Feel the golden warmth

This poem is about: 
Our world


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