The Worshipful Company of Dead Souls

At Bank Junction
A spirit met the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street
And she said:
You don’t belong here
But since you’re already dead I suppose it’s only fair
That I share some truths with you
And hopefully for your thoughts they’ll be food
Enough to keep you in your tomb!

You see, this city’s roots were made strong by absorbing the blood of slaves for sure
And yes, the saga continues…
But perhaps epigenetics is responsible
For my liverymen don’t mean to be so cruel

They too suffer great pain
Because comfort can’t be exchanged for peace of mind – it’s not a substitute

Indeed, generational gains they’ve accrued
But even they can’t guarantee their own future is secure
Since it’s not whether one saves or gambles that determines survival
Even Isaac Newton lost his life savings in the South Sea Bubble

However, one must endure the struggle with fortitude
But then again be careful of ‘wise’ counsel
For it’s often the tool a master will use to keep the ignoramus subdued

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