Three men I knew; two thought to save
The half of what their earnings gave.
Pennies locked in copper hearts,
Too cold to feel the devilís darts.
Bright coins to shine through darker days,
When honest work no longer pays.
Their gold will buy a life of ease,
And hide the truth of their disease.
From life to death Ė a turning page.
One was taken in middle-age.
He dwells in Hell as Satanís brother,
His money spent by another.
The second man was like the first;
He could not quench his burning thirst.
Although enough, he wanted more,
And died in rags at Satanís door.
The third, a man who understood
That coin can go for bad or good.
He gave to those with less than he,
And in his purse is Heavenís key.