Lady Capital

On each trade, Exchange, transaction. Every single time Someone profits And someone loses. Every bet, speculation. On each assumption, Unspoken ideas, And millionaire dreams She’s there. She flows with the wealth In a jet over Paris Or dancing over graves in Congo Unbiased, impartial, fair. She’ll savor your success And moan to your despair. As long as the money flows Real, fake, in every form No matter the reason No matter the why An entity put in motion Since the first man Made the first profit Until the last human Kills for the last penny And everything colapses Under her pleasure. # "Lady Capital" A piece by Victor Ribeiro