the last message

On a hill I sit and ponder, Memories of wealth and wonder, Days when she brought riches near, Now from the sky, rain of cash appears. Money falling like autumn leaves, Tumbling down in golden sheaves, Coins and bills, a currency breeze, In this moment I am all at ease. The wealthy's wealth now mine to keep, Rain of riches, a dream so deep, But I can't help but feel a pang, For days when she would bring me a hang. Now money falls from up above, A display of power and love, But nothing compares to her embrace, When I was poor but happy in grace.