by Nick Gisburne
I understand the nature of my wealth
The influence, the people I can buy
With privilege, good fortune, and good health
The rules for other men do not apply
But youth cannot be bought at any price
And though I pay to fight, to disagree
No scientist, no miracle device
Can counter time, or give it back to me
I see my fate, these fading, final years
And realise I have no more to prove
For death, alone, the greatest of my fears
Becomes a future money cannot move
The prize, the power, mercilessly chased
Leaves nothing but a bleak and bitter taste
